Wayward Son: Guiding Light
by Rainy Meadows
Summary: Atmos' saviour has been broken beyond repair. Shock and despair has consumed him and nothing but the assistance of a golden ex-soldier can help him, except possibly the care of a mysterious alchemist who may revive ghosts of his past that had long been lost and forgotten... Contains spoilers for Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and other Wayward Son fics (OC label avoids spoilers)
1. Prologue

_Were it not for the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Aerrow would have been in utter agony as he stumbled down the hallway, limping on his left leg. The wounds had probably opened up again, but he didn't care. He had far more important things to focus on._

_He took the stairs two at a time and, once he reached the top, threw the door open._

_A chilling breeze swept across the rooftop as he saw the soldier who had been his guardian, for what could have been days, weeks or even months, standing at the railing and leaning over, silhouetted against the sunset._

_"You wanna jump?" Aerrow asked as he took a step forward._

_The Major didn't move, aside from the slight fluttering of his dark hair._

_"Because if you do," said the Sky Knight, and he raised the stolen gun to aim at the soldier's head, "you're taking me with you."_

_His heart was still pounding out of his chest. He could barely feel anything anymore._

_Not that he had felt very much for the past few days anyway._

_"You don't want to do that," the Major told him. "You still have your whole life ahead of you-"_

_"Don't give me that bullshit," snapped Aerrow, and didn't even raise his voice. "All I want is information about my father. I know you know about him. How else would you have got this letter?"_

_He stepped closer and still the solider wouldn't move._

_"I'll ask you one more time," he said, danger echoing in his quiet voice. "Did. You. Kill. My. Father?"_


	2. Chapter 1

The major's eyes shone pale brown as he leaned on the door, gazing out emptily at the passing buildings. He heaved a heavy sigh, his breath misting up the glass in front of his face, and rested his unshaven chin on his tattooed hand.

"Something wrong, sir?" asked the driver, another soldier ranking merely as a corporal.

"Hmm?" The major's eyes left the window, resting on the back of the corporal's head.

"I only assumed that, sir," said the driver. "Pardon my mentioning, but you looked as though you were miles away."

"I think I was much further away than that," said the major, "but thanks for snapping me back."

He looked back out the window, at the black, moonless sky that clashed against the almost nauseating yellow light of the street lamps. When he thought about it, the outside world looked every bit as cold as it felt.

Thank goodness for military transport, eh?

"Excuse me, Major?"

"Yes? What is it now?"

"Forgive me for asking, sir," the corporal said nervously as they turned a corner, "but I can't help but be curious: what kind of alchemy is it you do?"

The major glanced down at the chain leading to his pocket and the transmutation circles tattooed on his hands. Taking them into account, as well as the tell-tale stripes on his shoulders, it wasn't surprising that the driver would guess his occupation.

"Well," he said with a smile, and proudly held up his left hand so that his palm was visible in the rear-view mirror, "do you see this rune I have here, Corporal...?"

"Messerschmitt, sir. Friedrich Messerschmitt."

"Messerschmitt. Right. Was wondering what your name was. Anyway, you see this?"

"Yes, sir. It's hard not to when you're blocking my view out the back."

"Sorry," said the major, and lowered his hand. "This is the circle for earth transmutation - so that's the ground, rocks, soil, all of that - but turned upside down, it becomes the symbol for air."

"So your alchemy is applied to earth and air, sir?"

"That's right!" the major said cheerfully as they turned another corner. "It all depends on how I press my hands together. That's why I was issued the title 'Dust Storm' because..."

He trailed off, looking out the window again.

"Are we taking some alternate route I didn't know about?" he asked. "Why are we in the backstreets?"

"I thought you might want to avoid some of the heavier traffic, sir," said Corporal Messerschmitt. "It takes longer, but it means a more peaceful drive."

The Dust Storm Alchemist nodded.

"Fair enough," he muttered.

He settled back down, leaning into the comfortable seat, and his gaze began to empty once more as it returned to the outside world.

He couldn't help but wonder if he'd made the right choice in enlisting with the military. If they found out exactly who he was and what he was capable of, he'd become the centre of a scandal. No doubt about it. There be court martials, more people than necessary asking questions, a whole other set of people asking where he'd been... it would be a mess.

He closed his fingers on his tattoos.

Hopefully his alchemical abilities and knowhow would be enough to keep him secure.

Gazing out the window, he saw an alleyway pass by.

With something in it which snagged his attention like a runaway fishhook.

"Stop the car!"

At his shout, the corporal slammed his foot on the brake and the State Alchemist was almost thrown through the windscreen.

"Sir?" Messerschmitt said, utterly confused.

"I just need to check something," said Dust Storm, and he opened his door. "Keep the engine running!"

"Sir?!"

The major ignored the confused driver and ran down the street to the alley's entrance.

He stood there for a few seconds, staring down its length and wondering if he had made a mistake.

But then he saw it.

Poking out from behind a large dumpster.

What was unmistakably a bare human leg, pouring blood out of a disturbingly large and ugly wound.

"Hello?" he called. "Is someone there?"

The leg twitched, as though its owner was shivering violently. Good. They weren't dead.

Thunder rumbled overhead as the Dust Storm Alchemist slowly approached, not wanting to frighten whoever it was that was hiding there.

"That's a nasty wound you've got there," he said. "I have a car nearby; I can get you to a hospital. It looks like you've lost a lot of blood, so..."

As he drew level with the dumpster, he noticed something else. Scraps of cloth littered the ground. In this dim light he couldn't make out the colours, but it looked as though the fabric was old and faded anyway. Another pile of cloth lay against the wall, as if thrown there.

The major picked it up to examine. It was a long coat, made for somebody much shorter than he was by the looks of things.

Behind him he heard heavy breathing, as of somebody who was struggling for air, and he finally turned to see who was there.

"Oh my god..." he muttered in shock.

It was a boy, definitely not above fifteen years old, and he was completely naked. His slim yet athletically muscular body was covered in scrapes and bruises, many shaped like hands or boot prints. His face was buried in his crossed arms - right one flesh, left one automail - and he was tightly clutching his uninjured leg against his chest. In this lighting it was impossible to tell what colour his hair was, but it was messy, long and dangling loosely around his shoulder.

He was, indeed, shivering like crazy, but the major guessed that the cold wasn't entirely to blame.

The major knelt down on one knee in front of the quivering teen.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked. "Hey?"

The boy looked up, keeping his head to one side. He seemed determined not to look at the major's face. Even so, even in this lighting, it was easy to tell that his eyes were a deep shade of green.

The major pulled out his watch.

"Look," he said. "You can trust me, see? I'm with the military, I'm a State Alchemist. They call me the Dust Storm Alchemist."

Green eyes fell upon the watch, but were quickly hidden again by the boy's arms.

The Dust Storm Alchemist looked down at the boy's left leg. Now that he was closer, he noticed that this wound had almost definitely been caused by a bullet. A high velocity round. Most likely a sniper. But who in their right mind would want to shoot some kid in the leg?

And then there were his other injuries, and the fact that he was naked...

Oh.

_Oh._

The major looked at the coat in his hand. Now that he thought about it, it did seem the right size for somebody like this boy.

"Is this yours?" he asked, holding it out so the kid could see.

The boy only barely glanced at the garment, then nodded so quickly it was hard to tell apart from his shivering.

"Here-"

The major moved closer with the intention of putting the coat around the boy's shoulders, but he shied away with a quiet whimper of fear.

"It's alright," said Dust Storm. "I don't want to hurt you, I promise. I'm just going to put this on you, okay? Come on. You must be cold."

Carefully, slowly, taking care not to make any sudden movements, he reached around the boy's shoulders and pulled the coat around him. The boy slipped his arms into the sleeves and hugged his chest, still shivering.

"Can you stand?" asked the major. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to touch you if I'm going to help you. Is that okay?"

With his arm around the boy's shoulders, he stood up. The boy kept his eyes tightly closed and pulled the coat even further around his body. He whimpered again as even more blood poured out of the wound in his leg.

The major didn't hesitate. He hooked another arm under the teen's knees and lifted him clear of the ground. The boy was clearly terrified, but he didn't object.

"What's your name?" Dust Storm asked. "Can you tell me your name?"

The boy didn't respond.

Face set in grim determination, the major carried him out of the alley. When he saw them approaching, Corporal Messerschmitt climbed out of the car and stared in shock.

"Major, what's going on?" he demanded. "Who is this?"

"There's no time," said the major. "Get us to the nearest hospital."

"But sir-"

"Now, corporal!" the major commanded. "Or do you want this kid to die?!"

Messerschmitt's eyes flicked from the steely gaze of the major to the boy, who was making every effort to hide himself.

He nodded.

"Very well," he said, and opened the door so that his passenger could enter.  
>The major climbed in and held the boy on his lap while the corporal once again revved up the car.<p>

"Don't be afraid," said Dust Storm. "You're safe now. No-one else is going to hurt you, I swear."

The boy opened his eyes slightly, staring straight ahead from under his eyelashes. He still hadn't looked at the major's face.

"What's your name?" Dust Storm asked again.

He didn't get a response.

"Do you know who did this to you?"

Still nothing. The boy closed his eyes and shivered again, but this time a tear trickled slowly down his cheek.

"Hey," the major said gently. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay."

He looked up again.

"Corporal, get a move on!" he ordered. "This kid's lost a lot of blood and he's still losing more!"

"I'm moving, I'm moving, I'm on it!" the corporal replied.

"It's okay," the major repeated to the now-sobbing boy. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

The boy covered his face with his hands, and nobody made any attempts to prevent him from crying.

* * *

><p>"Excuse me, sir?"<p>

The major stood up and saluted.

"Major Wilhelm Blitz, ma'am," he said. "Also known as the Dust Storm Alchemist. How's the boy?"

The nurse looked down at her clipboard.

"I'm afraid your suspicions were correct," she informed him. "He's showing all of the most common physical and psychological signs of sexual assault. From the wounds he sustained, we've been able to conclude that there were at least five different assailants. It's fortunate you brought him in when you did; a couple more hours and he would have developed gangrene in his leg if he hadn't died of exposure."

Major Blitz bowed his head solemnly. One would have been horrific enough, but _five_...

"Are you related to him in some way?" the nurse asked.

He shook his head.

When he looked up, the nurse had narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"I'm not," he said, "I swear. Is he going to be alright?"

"We have him sedated for the time being," the nurse told him.

"What? Why?"

"When he came round after the surgery, he attacked all of the doctors and nurses who were in the room. Three people are being treated for broken bones and two others for severe contusions. He isn't restrained, but I'd recommend staying away from him until we can find out his identity-"

"Did he at least tell you what his name was?"

She checked her clipboard again.

"He has mentioned a name," she said, "but judging by the frequency and repetition with which he says it, it isn't his."

"What name is this?"

She lifted a couple of pages aside.

"'Ed'."

Major Blitz looked through the window in the nearby door and saw the boy lying motionless on a hospital bed. Hopefully those sedatives were giving him a dreamless sleep. Otherwise, who knew what kind of nightmares could be plaguing him right now.

"I recognise this boy," he said. "I've seen him at Central Command. This 'Ed'... I'd advise you to contact Edward Elric, the former Fullmetal Alchemist. I believe those two were there together on the day I received my official title. He lives in Resembool. Shouldn't be too hard to track him down."

The nurse nodded and quickly scribbled this on her papers.

"Is it alright if I go in?" he asked.

"I don't see any reason why not, so long as you don't get too close," the nurse said.

The major nodded gratefully and slipped into the room.

The lighting here was far better, and he got a much clearer look at the boy he had rescued. He had a small bandage on his cheek, presumably covering a particularly bad scrape, and other more thorough dressings on his hand, arm and around his head. Major Blitz suspected that there were more under his hospital shirt, and definitely on his left leg. Looking closer, his automail was scratched and dented in places, and there were bruises on his neck as though somebody had been strangling him.

In this lighting, his hair was red. Not ginger or auburn or any other natural kind of red, but literally vivid red and almost artificial-looking in its brilliance. The major would have blamed it on dye if his eyebrows weren't the same colour.

He could hardly believe what he was looking at.

_Who_ he was looking at.

He sat down on a chair next to the bed, staring at the boy's sleeping form.

Surely it couldn't be true.

It couldn't be him.

_Surely_...


	3. Chapter 2

_Bang-bang-bang._

Ed didn't move.

_Bang-bang-bang._

He pulled his comforter up over his shoulder and groaned.

_Bang-bang-bang._

"Edward?" called Granny. "Would you mind getting that?"

He pressed himself up onto his elbows.

"Why does it have to be me?" he shouted.

"Because your room is closest to the front door!" Winry yelled.

_Bang-bang-bang._

"Ugh," Ed grunted, and flopped face down into his pillow.

"Brother," Al called, more softly than the ladies of the house. "Can't you please see who it is?"

Ed sighed.

He slammed his hands onto his mattress and threw himself out of bed, staggered over to his door, threw it open and leaned heavily on the frame.

"Okay," he said in resignation, "I'll get it."

_Bang-bang-bang._

"Yeah, alright, I hear you!" he shouted, and plodded down the corridor to the stairs. "I'm coming, I'm coming! Cool it, will you?"

He thumped down the stairs, making more ruckus than a stampeding elephant, thudded over to the door and yanked it open.

"What do you want?" he demanded, and then suddenly sobered up when he saw who was there.

"Lieutenant Ross?" he said in shock. "I- sorry, I- what're you doing here?"

"Good evening, Edward," said Lieutenant Maria Ross, who seemed strangely sombre considering how friendly she usually was. "Sorry to call on you so late in the evening. I'm afraid you need to come to Central as quickly as possible. Reasons will be explained upon your arrival."

"What?" Ed muttered in shock. "Lieutenant, what's this about? Is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm under strict orders not to tell you anything until we get there," said Lieutenant Ross, still in that odd solemn tone.

Ed sighed. It looked as though he didn't have much of a choice.

"Okay," he said. "If you really need me, I'll... can you let me get dressed first?"

"Of course. Go right ahead."

With a nod of thanks Ed re-entered the house, and found Al poking his head out of his room.

"Brother, what's going on?" he asked. "Who is it?"

"It's Lieutenant Ross," Ed informed him through his open doorway as he pulled on a pair of pants. "She says I've been summoned to Central."

"What?" asked Al. "What for?"

"She's under orders not to tell," said Ed while donning a shirt. "I'm to be kept in the dark until I get there. Load of crap if ever I heard it."

He pulled a hooded sweater on over his shirt and ruffled his little brother's hair once he re-entered the corridor.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll call you when I get there."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

His reassuring smile faded once he had turned away and made his way back to the front door.

"You ready to go?" Lieutenant Ross asked.

"Yeah, I'm ready," Ed replied. "Though I can't say I'm happy about it."

"Trust me," said the lieutenant, "I'm not either."

* * *

><p>The train ride to Central was made in complete, utter, crushing silence. Ed didn't dare say a single word, not even to all the sidelong glances of obvious suspicion that Lieutenant Ross cast in his direction.<p>

What the hell could she possibly be suspecting of him? Did she think he was going to leap up and bite her throat out if she took her eyes off him for more than a minute? Did she think he was pulling faces at her when she wasn't looking? He wanted to, but that was beside the point, and it was beginning to get frustrating.

Though, of course, Ed only began to notice this when they were drawing close to Central, as he had gone back to sleep for a majority of the time and only woke up when the sun was beginning to rise.

He forced himself to look out the window and ignore the looks he was getting from the Lieutenant. He got the feeling that questioning them would only lead to further hostility.

He didn't understand it. He was more than familiar with Lieutenant Ross. He considered her to be a friend, what with how much help and comfort she had offered in the past and her actions on the Promised Day. What the hell could have happened that would make her so cold towards him?

If all of the other soldiers in Central acted this way towards him, Ed was just going to be annoyed.

He watched as the trees became more and more sparse and gave way to large buildings which, while never exactly frightening, did make him feel slightly claustrophobic given his current situation of seemingly being on his way towards arrest.

Because really, what other explanation could there be?

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity sitting being occasionally stared at and looking out the window trying to ignore being occasionally stared at, the train screeched to halt at a platform in Central station. Since it was so early in the morning there was barely anybody there, and it was… somehow places usually full of people were incredibly eerie when they were empty. It felt strange, and Ed got the feeling that he shouldn't be there either (or maybe he just didn't want to be there, which was much more likely).

"Time to go," said Ross.

Ed nodded, and didn't say anything because he knew it would be useless.

Lieutenant Ross wordlessly led him off the near-empty train and off the platform to the exit, and Ed had to try to avoid shivering at the cold autumn air (the fact that it was early morning definitely didn't help). As he shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight, he looked down and saw a car waiting for him and the Lieutenant, with another familiar face standing outside it.

"Sergeant Major Brosh!" he exclaimed (luckily remembering the man's promotion) and jogged down the stairs two at a time. "Do you think maybe _you _could tell me what the hell I'm supposed to be here for? Lieutenant Ross isn't telling me anything!"

"Just get in the car, Edward," Brosh said sternly, opening a door for him. "It'll all be explained when you get there."

"Oh come on, not you too," Ed moaned. "What the hell is going on with everyone?"

"Edward, please," Lieutenant Ross said as she drew level with him. "We don't like this any more than you do. Now please get in the car."

Ed rolled his eyes and slumped down into the backseat. He guessed that the thump of the door closing behind him would have been more foreboding if he hadn't been increasingly angry at that moment. After all, he'd had to find a replacement for short remarks being his biggest berserk button seeing as he wasn't exactly that short anymore, and had decided that being kept in the dark about things would be an apt replacement.

So he cast his moodiest possible frown in the direction of Ross and Brosh as they got into the car and Brosh drove them away from the station.

"Okay, seriously," he said once around a quarter of a minute of silent driving had passed, "can neither of you tell me _anything _about why I've been brought to Central? Really? You're not even going to hint at it?"

"_No_," Brosh said, in a more solid voice than Ed had ever heard from the man.

"We're sorry, Edward," said Lieutenant Ross, "but we have our orders, and our orders are to escort you to Central Command for questioning."

"Questioning?" said Ed. "About what? Oh no, wait: let me guess. You can't tell me. Orders, right?"

Neither Ross nor Brosh responded.

"Look," he continued, "whatever it is you think I did, I didn't do it. I don't know what crime led to me being here, but I can promise I was _not_ the perpetrator."

"But how do _we_ know that?" asked Brosh.

"Denny, shush!" hissed Ross.

Silence returned, and Ed sat seething in a pile of his own growing resentment.

This was getting beyond ridiculous. What matter would be so serious that absolutely nobody would tell him what was going on?

And yet, as they drew closer to the military command centre, Ed found a strange sense of dread growing in his stomach. He didn't know why, but it was like something horrible had happened to somebody close to him. He found himself looking out the back window, wondering how Al, Winry and Granny were doing in Resembool and if they were all okay.

No, it wasn't them. They were more than capable of taking care of themselves, as several years of bruised craniums could testify.

So then, what? What had happened? And why was he wanted for questioning about it?

The car wasn't moving too fast. If he popped the door open and remembered to tuck and roll as he landed, he could get away scot free, blend in with the morning rush hour and make it back to Resembool before the next day.

But what good would that do besides putting some kind of bounty on his head?

He figured he would just have to sit this out. Eventually somebody would have to tell him what was going on, right?

It wasn't long after this thought went through his head that the car was halted outside Central Command, and Ed stepped back out into the cold morning. This time he couldn't avoid shivering.

'The sooner this is over with,' he thought to himself, 'the better.'

* * *

><p>The room was windowless. The only thing resembling a window was the mirror set into one of the gunmetal grey walls, but Ed guessed that in one way, it <em>was <em>a window. He'd never known a light to be threatening, but the shaded bulb hanging from the ceiling wasn't exactly reassuring, and neither were the boring table or the two chairs that sat on either side of it.

One of those chairs, the one furthest from him, was occupied by a stern and tired looking middle-aged soldier who was flanked by two others, and Ed had never seen any of them before in his life.

'No denying it,' he thought with a frown. 'I know an interrogation when I see one.'

"Edward Elric?" the man at the desk asked rather unnecessarily.

"Yeah?" Ed replied moodily.

"Take a seat."

Ed considered taking it literally – picking up the chair and walking out of the room for no reason other than to annoy them – but that would just get him into more trouble than he already seemed to be in, so he sat down and tried to ignore the ominous slam of the door behind him.

"So am I finally going to find out what I'm here for?" he demanded.

The soldier before him (a brigadier general, as his stripes displayed) frowned with a distinct lack of amusement.

"Mr Elric," he said, "where were you on the night of November 2nd?"

"Two nights ago?" Ed thought back. "I was at home with my family. Am I some sort of suspect for something?"

"Possibly," the soldier replied. "Can this family of yours verify your whereabouts?"

"There's my younger brother, my friend Winry and her grandmother," Ed explained. "I was with them for the entire night. Plus I live in Resembool and it's a pretty long train ride from there to here, so they would have noticed if I'd left."

"Would it have been possible for you to leave while everybody else was asleep and then return before they had woken up?"

"Considering how we got to sleep at around 10 and woke up at 7:30 and the train ride from Central Station to Resembool can take between ten and eleven hours (and sometimes up to eighteen depending on how many stops there are) I'd say that's a pretty big no."

The way this man was staring at him conveyed to Ed that his story wasn't being believed, like it was difficult to tell. Ed got the feeling that unless some miracle took place, he was going to be here for quite a while.

"Mr Elric," said the soldier, "you served in the military as a State Alchemist for four years, is that correct?"

"Yes," Ed replied, not liking where this was going.

"And during that time, you built up quite the reputation." The brigadier general pulled out a folder labelled ELRIC, E. which was thick-as-a-brick with reports. "You apparently entered this military after threatening Fuhrer King Bradley with a spear."

"I wasn't actually gonna stab him."

"You repeatedly got into altercations with the Flame Alchemist."

"He was an asshole."

"You often threw yourself into danger simply in the name of getting whatever mission you were on over and done with as quickly as possible."

"I was kind of in a hurry to be human again."

"And during those instances of defiance, you often endangered the lives of civilians-"

"Is this going anywhere?!" Ed demanded, holding himself back from slamming his fists on the table. "Yeah, I made mistakes in the past and let myself get into trouble! I was a kid! A kid who was just trying to get himself and his brother back to their original bodies and it didn't seem to be going anywhere! Wouldn't that piss _you _off too?!"

It was only as he was catching his breath that he realised he'd made a mistake. The stern glare from the soldier's narrow eyes was telling him as much. Was he going to be arrested?

Thankfully, before anything like that could happen, there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," said the brigadier general.

A somewhat younger soldier entered and whispered something into the man's ear. As he was leaning down, Ed got a good look at his stripes: he was a Major. And was that a silver chain hanging out of his uniform?

"What?" said the older soldier.

The newcomer simply nodded.

"Very well," the brigadier general said. "Mr Elric, you are free to go. There has been a change in the situation."

"What situation?" Ed asked angrily. "Will somebody PLEASE tell me what's going on?"

"You are to be escorted to the Central State Hospital," said the soldier. "Major…"

"Blitz," said the newcomer. "Major Wilhelm Blitz."

"Major Blitz will brief you on the events."

"Ugh, _finally_." Ed got up out of his chair and left the room.

He rather liked this long, empty corridor with lots of windows and light. So much so that he didn't look around when the door closed behind him again.

"So did you do it?" said the voice of Brosh.

"Whatever _it _was," Ed said exasperatedly, "I can promise you I didn't do it."

"Follow me," said the voice of Major Blitz. "I'll tell you what's going on."

* * *

><p>"Two nights ago, a young boy was found in the backstreets of Central City," the major explained as they were driven through the city in question. "He had been shot in his lower left leg, severely assaulted and left for dead. Had he not been found when he was, he would certainly have died from exposure or gangrene. As it is, it's a miracle he's still alive, let alone that his leg doesn't need amputation."<p>

"Young?" Ed said questioningly. "Exactly how young are we talking here?"

"It's hard to tell," Major Blitz explained. "He's refused to properly speak to anybody who tries to interact with him. From what we can tell, he would probably be around a year younger than you are. Perhaps fourteen or fifteen."

Ed felt reassured that this wasn't a third-grader who'd been shot, beaten and left for dead, but at the same time, the mere thought that this would happen to any young person was awful. Heck, the mere thought that this would happen to _anyone _was awful.

"And why have I been roped into this?" he asked.

"When he was first brought to the hospital, the boy would only say one word," Major Blitz told him. "That word was 'Ed' repeated over and over. However, this has recently changed to such phrases as 'where is Ed' 'I want Ed' and 'just Ed'."

Ed felt like somebody had punched him in the gut. So not only was this a young person, but it was a young person he was on a first name or even nickname basis with.

And there weren't too many people he was that close to.

"You haven't found out what his name is?" he asked.

"No," said Major Blitz. "He hasn't told us yet. We're hoping maybe you could help him open up a little more."

"But how do you know I'm the right Ed?" Ed pointed out. "There could be hundreds of people in Amestris named Edward! Why would it just be me?"

"Because you're the only person named Edward that this boy has been witnessed in the presence of prior to this incident," said the Major. "You must understand that we have to cover all the bases in this. If you're not the right Ed, then we can get looking for another one. There can't be too many people with that name, can there?"

Ed frowned.

This was only getting more and more worrying with every passing sentence.

But as the feelings of dread that somebody he was close to had been seriously wounded closed in, they were suddenly repelled by something completely different as he looked properly at the soldier's face for the first time.

"Do I know you?" he asked. "You're giving me déjà vu. I feel like I've seen you somewhere before."

"I can confirm, Mr Elric," said Major Blitz, "that you and I have never spoken before."

Before Ed could argue any further, the car pulled up outside the hospital and the doors were opened for them. Ed cursed himself for not bringing something thicker than a hoodie before stepping into the warmth of the building.

"Follow me," Major Blitz said, and led him to the stairs. "I'll take you to where they've put him."

"You think you could tell me how he's doing since he was found?" asked Ed.

"The nurses have been trying to coax him into eating," explained the major, "but he's been curled up under his blankets ever since he woke up. He won't even look at people, let alone speak to them."

Ed followed him up the stairs, but then another thought occurred to him.

"Hang on," he said. "You said I've been 'witnessed in the presence' of this guy, but how would you know that?"

"He has been within Central Command before. As have you. The two of you were together at the time."

The punch in the gut was far stronger this time, and Ed was getting a better and better idea of exactly who it was that was being described to him. He was beginning to dread the moment he finally reached the ward more than ever.

"It was you that found him," he guessed. "Wasn't it?"

Major Blitz didn't reply with anything more than a faint, barely noticeable nod.

They passed many doctors and nurses on their way up to the ward (if it was a ward and not a private room). Many of them stared briefly in Ed's direction before moving their gaze to somewhere else. Ed guessed that they recognised him and were surprised to see him visiting rather than wrapped in bandages and sitting grumpily in a bed.

After several more minutes of climbing they finally reached the top floor. Ed figured that if Fuhrer Grumman stopped by for a visit like his predecessor had, he would probably have to leave by some way other than the window. Or at least bring a good long length of rope with him.

"It's not much further, right?" asked the ex-alchemist, as his legs were beginning to ache from the journey.

"No, it's not far," the soldier replied simply.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before they reached a door, and Major Blitz knocked.

There was no response.

"I'll let you go in and speak to him one on one," he said. "Maybe you can coax a few more words out of him."

Ed took a deep breath and opened the door.

The only sound he could hear was the unsteady, heavy breathing of the bed's occupant, curled up so tightly under their sheet that they were hardly visible.

After a few seconds of Ed trying to work out what to do or say, they spoke.

"Ed…" they said quietly, and there was no mistaking whose voice it was. "I want Ed."

Ed shrugged.

"You got me," he said.

He didn't know exactly what he had triggered, but the boy suddenly sprang up and threw his arms around Ed's neck so fast and with so much force that Ed almost fell over.

"Ed," he muttered, and sounded as though he could sob at any moment. "Thank god…"

Still apprehensive, Ed started raising his hands to return the hug, but the moment one of his fingers made contact with the boy's back he was shoved away, and once he'd caught his balance again, he finally got a good look at the patient.

"What… the… _hell_…" he whispered to himself.

Aerrow was a _mess_. His long red hair was loose and scruffier than ever, his eyes were constantly darting everywhere but at Ed's face and he sat on the bed with the sheets pulled over his legs, fidgeting and shifting and obviously terrified out of his mind. This would have been alarming enough were it not for the bandages that covered so, so much of what little of his skin was visible, and even then the skin that was showing was covered in grazes and bruises that were only just beginning to fade.

"Aerrow?" Ed said carefully as he took a step forward. "What's-"

"Stop!" Aerrow closed his eyes and held up a hand, as if his command hadn't been enough. "Stop, don't come too close! Jus-just sit in that chair and don't come any closer!"

Moving slowly, Ed sat down in a chair that had been placed next to the bed.

"I-I'm glad you're here," Aerrow said shakily. "I didn't know if they'd actually be able to find you; I've just been saying your name over and over because I couldn't think of anything else. Or I-I've been trying not to think about… about…"

He slammed his hands over his face and rubbed at his eyes.

"About what?" Ed asked, despite wondering whether or not it was appropriate. "Aerrow, what the hell happened to you? How did you get so beat up? Who did this to you?"

"I don't. Know."

Ed found himself reaching forward, intending to rub the boy's shoulder, but Aerrow held up his hand again in indication for him to stop.

"Aerrow," Ed said, realising he was going to have to choose his words very carefully, "do you think you would be able to tell me what happened?"

Aerrow's eyes shifted again. He seemed to be trying his hardest to focus.

"I don't know," he repeated.

"If getting it out of your head is the issue, then talking about it will probably help," Ed pointed out, trying his utmost to retain a friendly, sympathetic tone. "You don't have anything to be afraid of: I'm here and I'll listen to you. It's okay."

The Sky Knight's breathing was still very heavy, but he seemed to be trying to steady it somewhat.

Ed looked back and only briefly saw Major Blitz as he ducked away from the window in the door. He had been watching. That much was obvious.

"I was trying to find my way to the train station," Aerrow explained, rubbing his upper arms despite the room already being acceptably warm (and one of them being made of metal). "I wanted to come and visit you. I wanted to surprise you. Trouble was, I didn't know the way, so I asked a soldier for directions."

He pulled his knees up to his chin, staring dead ahead.

"He must've been lying because somehow I wound up in the city's back streets and I was totally lost. This place makes Terra Atmosia look like some quaint little hamlet. I stopped for a moment in an alley 'coz I was trying to think what to do and..."

One of his hands wandered down to his leg.

"...and then my leg exploded," he said shakily. "That's what it felt like. I just collapsed; there was no way I'd be able to stay standing up with a wound like that. I could see through my own leg, do you have any idea what that's like?! A-and then something hit me and I blacked out and..."

His body started to tremble.

"...a-and when I came round I heard voices... these men were... they'd pulled my coat off... one of them had a knife and they tore my clothes off a-and used some of the fabric to... th-they shoved it in my mouth and then they had the knife at my throat and said they'd kill me if I screamed a-and..."

His head fell forward until his brow hit his knees.

"...i-it _hurt_," he choked, tears springing up in his eyes. "I thought losing my arm was bad, but th-this was... i-it just didn't _end_... a-any time I thought they w-were done it just started again... I felt so useless, all I could do was lie there and take it... o-one of them choked me... another punched me in the face... some of them held me down while others..."

Ed wanted to comfort him - to pull him into a tight, reassuring hug - but right now that would do far more harm than good.

"I-it felt like forever before it finally ended," Aerrow said as he rubbed his eyes. "All I'd wanted while it was happening was to get away, but when it finally stopped I had no idea what I was supposed to do... I-I was cold and bleeding a-and _dirty_... all I could do was try to hide behind a dumpster... had to convince myself not to climb in... I was so afraid that they might come back and try to finish me off... or they might want more..."

"...and then the Major showed up," said Ed.

"Y-yeah," said Aerrow. "The Dust Storm Alchemist, he called himself. I don't know how he found me, but he brought me here. He saved my life and I don't even know what his name is or what he looks like. I don't really feel like looking at faces right now."

Ed nodded. He understood. If something like that had happened to him, he would have never wanted to look at any person ever again, let alone their face.

"I'm really glad you're here, Edward," Aerrow choked, "and I'm grateful that you'd try to comfort me, but do you think you could leave me alone for a while?"

"Of course," said Ed, and got up from the chair. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

Aerrow laid down on his side and pulled the covers up over his body, resuming the pose he had been in when Ed had first entered and thereby signifying the end of the conversation.

After casting a lingering look of sorrow in his direction, Ed left the room, closing the door as quietly as he could as he departed.

He knew Major Blitz was leaning against the wall next to the door, but didn't bother to look in his direction.

"Looks like you got him out of his shell," he commented.

"I don't think so," said Ed. "Or if I did, he went straight back in again."

He looked back through the window at Aerrow, whose body was trembling like a leaf.

"I don't think I've seen anybody so shaken in my whole life," he commented.

"But do you think he's going to be okay?" asked the Major.

Ed had no idea how he was supposed to answer that question.

"Do you think you could escort me to the Breach?" he asked.

"The Breach?" Major Blitz was confused. "Why do you want to go to Atmos?"

"You were right that I know this guy," Ed explained. "He comes from Atmos and he's pretty prominent there; he's a Sky Knight with his own squadron and everything. Don't you think they should know what's going on? What's happened to him?"

Major Blitz was hesitant in his reply, glancing at the door nearby and tapping his foot while thinking.

"Yes," he eventually decided. "Yes, they should. I'll escort you to the Breach."


	4. Chapter 3

"A_choo!_"

Finn rubbed his nose and waved the dust away.

Someday he was going to pluck up the courage to slap Stork in the face for introducing fall cleaning to compliment spring cleaning. Did he just think the connection to Amestris would bring in a whole new world of dirt as well?

He didn't even recognise this part of the ship. For all he knew, he could be the first person ever to set foot in this place since the Condor was constructed.

'Therefore,' he thought, 'as I am the first person to discover this location, I hereby claim it for the nation of Finnster and it shall henceforth be known as the…'

He paused, trying to think what this place he was could be called.

'…the Official Finnster… Engine Room… Air Duct Entrance,' he decided. 'Yeah, it needs work.'

With the cover dusted, he unscrewed the bolts and pulled it off. The inside of the vent had even more dust coating the walls, and Finn realised he was going to have to get a mask or something if he wanted to get through this alive.

But because this was Finn, he just pulled his shirt up over his face instead.

And then he realised he was going to have to practically get into the vent in order to do the job properly.

'Couldn't they have just made me do the floors again?' he wondered as he pulled himself up and propped his elbows against the walls. 'I'm good at floors! I can… what?'

There was something inside the vent. In the dim light, he could just about make out the shape of a box about the right size for a pair of shoes to fit in.

Who would want to hide a shoebox in an air vent?

Were there some antique shoes in there?

Still with his shirt awkwardly pulled up over his face, he pulled his body further into the vent and reached for the box. He could only just touch the lid with the tips of his fingers and carefully inched it towards him, nervous that he might accidentally push it away as usually happened in situations like this.

"Come on…" he whispered.

Several seconds of pulling brought the box to within reach of his hand and let him get a proper grip, and once that happened, he slipped and fell quite heavily out of the vent. He landed on his back with a _thump_ and the box hit him in the chest.

"Victory," he muttered.

He pulled down his shirt and ripped the box lid off to reveal…

…a book.

A single book, leather-bound and looking rather weather beaten, on a bed of old newspapers.

Annoyed, Finn laid the book down next to him and pulled out the paper, but there was nothing underneath. No money, no crystals, not even a secret stash of candy. Just more dust.

"Dammit," he said to himself.

Oh well. So he had a new book. Whoop-de-doo.

'Might as well see what this thing's about,' he figured. 'I guess I could hang onto it if it turns out to be some epic story about dragon racing and ancient wars and legendary heroes and stuff, but if it's another crystal encyclopaedia, I guess I'll leave it somewhere for Piper to find.'

Bored already, he flipped to the first page.

When he read what was written there, his jaw dropped.

* * *

><p>"Don't you worry about the dark," Piper sang to herself as she tried to drown out the humming of the vacuum. "I will light up the night with the love in my heart…"<p>

She moved into Aerrow's room. Why he'd had to leave just before the beginning of the fall cleanout was anybody's guess, as he usually rather enjoyed these activities.

"…I will burn like the sun, I will keep you safe and warm," she sang. The lyrics were cheesy, it was true, but much better than anything Finn would listen to.

There wasn't much to do in this room, as Aerrow generally kept his area rather well-kept anyway. Having finished here, she moved back out into the corridor and continued on her way.

"Like the smell of a rose on a summer's day, I will be there to take all your fears away," she sang. "With a touch of my hand I will turn your life to…"

She span around to the short instrumental.

"_Gold_…" she squeaked, somehow hitting the high note flawlessly.

"PIPER, WILL YOU CUT THAT OUT?!" screamed someone behind her.

She looked back and saw Finn fuming, and switched her music off.

"No need to yell," she said, despite it being clear that she'd accidentally set the volume too high. "Did you finish cleaning the vents in the engine room?"

"Not yet," said Finn.

"Then why are-"

"'Coz I found a box in one of the vents that had _this_ inside it."

He held up a rather old-looking book.

Piper pulled off her headphones (they were actually Aerrow's headphones, but she would apologise for it once he returned from Amestris) and looked down at it.

"In a box?" she asked for confirmation. "So you didn't think maybe someone put it there because they didn't want it to be found? You don't even know who it might belong to."

"Uh, yeah I do," said Finn, and opened the book. "Check out the address its owner wrote. Figured it would be best to show it to you rather than hogging it, 'coz I have literally no idea what I should do with it."

Narrowing her eyes, Piper read the inscription.

"Holy…" she gasped, and the hoover fell from her hand. "We have to show this to the others. Come on!"

She grabbed Finn's hand and pulled him after her.

* * *

><p>Silence reigned on the bridge as the Storm Hawks stared at the book that sat, still open at the last written-on page, in the centre of the table. None of them were sure what would be appropriate to say.<p>

After what felt like an eternity, Junko broke the hush.

"We have to tell Aerrow," he stated.

"You don't think that might be a bit of a bad idea?" asked Stork.

"He should know!" Junko argued. "Don't you think he deserves to know something as major as this?"

"My mind is still blowing in ways I didn't even think it would be possible to blow," said Finn, who was rubbing his likely very sore temples.

"Junko's right," Piper said as Radarr carefully closed the book. "Aerrow deserves to know about this way more than any of us. Rather than just telling him though, I think it would be best if we just let him read it for himself. Don't you guys agree?"

Radarr nodded and handed the book to her, and the other trio responded in various positive ways.

"And Stork," said Piper, "I think you can take that gas mask off now."

"You're kidding, right?" Stork said flatly. "That thing's been hidden in an air vent gathering dust for what, eleven years? Eleven and a half? Do you have any idea what kinds of moulds and fungi can grow on paper in that much time? I'm surprised the whole thing hasn't rotted to dust!"

"It was in a box," Finn pointed out. "You don't think maybe the newspaper absorbed whatever spore-things might've been in there?"

Junko didn't say anything, but did cast him a very confused and concerned look.

"And of course, Aerrow just _had_ to go and visit Ed," Piper said, mostly to herself. "You think he just did that to get out of cleaning?"

"Nah, Aerrow's cool with cleaning," Finn pointed out. "He actually likes to help out. I'm just wondering what's taking him so long; how long has he been gone?"

"Over two days," Stork instantly replied. "Nearly three, I think."

"It is a pretty long journey to Resembool," Junko pointed out. "Remember how it took us a whole night to get from there to Central? For all we know he could've only just arrived."

_Bang-Bang-Bang_

All eyes fell upon the door.

"Or he could've just got back," said Finn.

"Since when does Aerrow knock?" Piper pointed out.

"Who is it?" called Junko.

"It's Fuhrer King Bradley!" shouted a familiar voice. "I'm here to have you all arrested for not letting me in!"

Yeah, it was pretty obvious who it was.

"The door's not locked," Stork informed him, and to himself he muttered, "It never is, of course."

The door opened.

"Jeez, you guys are _not _easy to track down," Ed said as he walked into the large room. "Do you know what I had to say to people to even make them think about telling me where you were? Not to mention how hard it was to get a lift! It was early morning when I left and now it's almost three o'clock!"

"Well, we don't like people just waltzing onto our ship like it's a public park," Finn snarked.

"I'm guessing you didn't just find us to complain about how difficult it was," said Piper before another argument could erupt.

"I'm afraid so," said Ed. "You're probably wondering where your Sky Knight's got to, is that right?"

"Yeah, where is he?" asked Finn. "Did he break his automail and had to get Winry to make him a new one again?"

"Or did he contract some sort of airborne disease that could eradicate all life in the Atmos if it spreads to our world?" asked Stork.

"Neither," said Ed. "You see, Aerrow… he never made it to my place."

"What?!" the Storm Hawks responded unanimously (except Radarr, who squawked in alarm).

"Those of you who are standing might want to find something to sit on," said Ed. "What I'm about to tell you is something you are _not_ going to enjoy."

* * *

><p>Aerrow was numb.<p>

He didn't feel the pillow under his head. He didn't feel the blanket that was wrapped tightly around his body, and didn't feel the bed that supported him. He didn't even feel the air on his face.

He couldn't hear anything either. The layers of fabric around his head and the nearby wall and door blocked out all sound from the outside world.

But he didn't dare close his eyes because he feared that he would stop existing altogether.

Not that he would really care very much if that happened. As far as he was concerned, ceasing to exist would be a massive improvement from where he was right now.

For now, however, he lay in numbness.

It wasn't that he didn't want to feel. Far from it. He wanted to feel warmth and comfort and security. He wanted to feel as if nothing bad was going to happen. He wanted to feel positivity and optimism and all of the assorted sub-emotions that fall under the umbrella of general happiness.

And instead he just felt…

Hollow.

Used.

Violated.

Dirty.

He wanted to find a shower and scrub every inch of his body ten times over. He would wash until his cuts reopened and he was bleeding all over. And then, when he was done, he would curl into a ball on the floor and let the hot water scald his already sore and bruised back. Maybe he would cry. He wasn't sure.

But he couldn't, could he? He couldn't go to a shower. He probably wouldn't even be able to stand.

Besides, it wasn't like he wasn't the usual standard of clean. The doctors and nurses had disinfected all of his cuts and scrapes and done their best to make sure they were properly dressed. They had even managed to save his leg from amputation, though Aerrow suspected alchemy had been used.

He didn't care.

He just wished there could be _some way _to rid himself of this numb sensation of desecration, but that, in all probability, was never going to happen.

So he lay there, on the bed with his blankets wrapped around his body and wondering if he would ever be able to consider himself human again.

He didn't move when he heard another knock on the door, which soon opened.

"Your friend's gone into the other world," said the voice of the Dust Storm Alchemist. "He says you're a Sky Knight, is that right?"

Aerrow still didn't move.

"He's gone to find your squadron and tell them you won't be coming home for a while," said Dust Storm. "I'm sure they'll understand once they've heard everything. I bet they'll be eager to see you again once you go home."

The Sky Knight gulped.

"I'm not going home," he said quietly.

He could feel the major's confused gaze on his back.

"Why not?" the man asked. "Don't you-"

"I could take down a whole platoon of Talons by myself," Aerrow said, barely altering the tone of his voice. "I could take down the most powerful fighter Cyclonia has to offer and not even think about getting hurt. And yet, when it came down to it, when I really needed to pull myself together and fight, I failed."

He heard the soldier step closer.

"You don't think getting shot in the leg had anything to do with it?" he asked.

"Should've seen it coming," Aerrow responded bluntly.

"The round that injured your leg came from a high-velocity sniper rifle," said the major, "likely fired from between thirty and fifty metres away. You were most likely shot from across the street, from inside a building, and you were in an alleyway. How would you have been able to see that coming?"

"As a Sky Knight, I have to be prepared for anything," said Aerrow, still retaining his numb monotone. "I didn't see this coming and I paid for it. I can't go home. What good am I?"

"That's insane."

The Dust Storm Alchemist was right beside his bed. He could tell.

"You really think you brought this on yourself?" asked the soldier. "You think you were setting yourself up for something most of us can't even begin to imagine? Sky Knight or not, you're still human. And no human in their right mind would ask for something like this."

Aerrow blinked.

"So why don't I feel human?" he inquired.

The major sighed.

"I'm not about to pretend I understand how you feel," he said. "Because the simple fact is that I don't and I probably never will. But listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once and I don't ever want to have to repeat it. You'll pull that sheet off your ear if you know what's good for you because I want to know you're listening."

Silent, Aerrow pulled the blanket off from around his head.

He froze as he felt the Dust Storm Alchemist lean in closer.

"This. Was. _Not_. Your. Fault," he said, slowly and solidly and oh so clearly. "Do you understand?"

Not daring to look up at his face, Aerrow nodded.

"Good," Dust Storm said as he (presumably) straightened up. "I'll have one of the nurses bring some food in for you."

"I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten anything since before you entered this building. I'm going to make sure you have food and you'll be hungry by the time it gets here if you know what's good for you."

And with that, Aerrow was left alone again.

He was still lying unmoving on his bed that he could barely feel. He was still hurting in places and ways that he didn't think would be possible to hurt. He still wanted to throw himself into the hottest possible shower and never emerge even if the place was rigged with its weight in explosives.

So why had the Dust Storm Alchemist's words brought him such an odd feeling of comfort?

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry I can't stick around for longer," Ed said as he stepped out onto the runway. "I borrowed the skimmer from a pretty grumpy doctor on Atmosia and I'll have to get it back to him before sundown or else I become his coffee slave for a week."<p>

Piper didn't respond. She had been quiet for rather a while now.

"Listen," said Ed, "I'm going to try to get Aerrow to come home, alright? Right now he needs you guys more than ever, but I don't think he realises that. And if what you're telling me about that book is true, then you need him too."

Still Piper remained silent.

"In any case," Ed added as he mounted the skimmer, "I guess I'll see you guys later."

"Wait."

He froze at the sound of her voice, and she passed the book over to him.

"Could you make sure he gets this?" Piper requested. "It would be better for him to read it himself rather than just having one of us try to explain it."

Ed nodded and took the book, and stashed it safely in the compartment the skimmer's owner usually used to hold his bag.

"I'll see you when I see you," he said.

And then he was gone, occasionally dropping in the air as he struggled to get the hang of the skimmer's mechanisms.

Piper stood and stared at the empty sky for what felt like an eternity.

She had been waiting for Aerrow to come home. She knew he wanted to see Ed again to see how he was doing, to find out if he and Alphonse had fully recovered after the events in September. She also knew that no matter what happened, he would be more than capable of handling himself.

And now, to discover something like _this_…

She felt Radarr climb up her leg and onto her shoulder, and reached up to scratch behind his ears. He had been just as horrified – if not more so – when he had discovered what had become of their leader.

Then again, all of them had been horrified.

She walked back down the runway towards the doors, and made sure to close them behind her as she entered the hangar. She could feel heat rising to her face – her body was telling her she should be crying – and she tried her utmost to ignore the sensation. Crying wouldn't change the situation at all.

The door in front of her opened and she was met by Junko, who also appeared to be on the verge of tears. Wordlessly, they began walking together, back towards the bridge.

It seemed like words would be useless, given the situation. What could anybody possibly say to make things better?

But still, as they continued walking, it felt like somebody should say something. Anything. Even an unintelligible scream would be understandable and excusable, but still the silence reigned for the remainder of their journey.

Upon reaching the entrance to the bridge, they paused.

Piper looked up and Junko, trying to find words to express some sort of comfort, and saw silent tears trickling down his cheeks. He looked down at her and it was clear he wanted to say something too, but couldn't quite find the appropriate phrasing for his emotions.

So Piper hugged him. And he hugged her back. And Radarr joined in.

The door slid open, detecting their presence, and the three of them looked up to see Stork holding Finn in an almost identical fashion.

With each of them realising that they all felt the same way, the five of them united in a single, large embrace.

* * *

><p>Ed took a deep breath once he had stepped out of the Breach. He doubted he would ever get used to the change in gravity and atmosphere.<p>

"So they know?" asked Major Blitz, who had been waiting for his return.

"Yeah, and it was awful," said Ed, and they started walking to the nearest exit. "They looked like their whole world had come crashing down around them. Not surprised, really. They're way more like a family than some military platoon. I've spent enough time with them to know that much. And I think having to tell them what's happened to their leader is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my whole life."

The Dust Storm Alchemist nodded in understanding.

"He'll probably be wondering where you are," he said. "If the two of you really are close enough for him to be asking after you, then I doubt he'll want you to be very far away."

"I know," said Ed.

"So I'm guessing you know what his name is?"

"Obviously."

They continued walking in silence.

"Well?" asked the soldier.

"Well what?" Ed responded.

"You're not going to tell me? What his name is, I mean. I found him in that alleyway, I'd hate to keep thinking of him as just another victim."

"Oh. Right. His name's Aerrow. I remember I laughed my ass off the first time I heard it."

He paused and looked back when he noticed that Major Blitz had stopped walking, his face a portrait of shock and alarm.

"Something wrong?" asked Ed.

The major shook his head, but it was more of an attempt to get his thoughts in order than a signal of denial.

"No," he said. "It's nothing. You're right; it is a bit of an unusual name."

It was amazing how little attention was paid to them as they walked across the courtyard.

"Hey, is it okay if I use a phone here?" asked Ed. "My brother's probably going out of his mind worrying about me."

"Yes, of course," said Major Blitz. "I'll show you where they're kept. The main administration centre got relocated in the blueprints after what happened with Brigadier General Hughes last year. They've become more easily accessible."

Ed nodded in grim understanding.

"At least now I've broken it to Aerrow's companions," he said, mostly to himself, "telling Al should be a little easier."

* * *

><p>Al sat on a chair, staring at the phone.<p>

"Alphonse, don't worry," said Winry as she laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He's okay. He'll call."

"But what if he doesn't?" Al asked fearfully. "What if he's been arrested and they're going to execute him?"

"Don't they usually give prisoners a phone call?" Winry pointed out.

"And besides," said Granny as she tightened a bolt, "They wouldn't do that if they know what's good for them. If they arrest that boy for nothing, I'm marching right into Fuhrer Grumman's office and giving him a piece of my mind."

She finished adjusting Den's leg and patted her affectionately on the head, and received a grateful lick on the cheek.

"Now don't you go trying to chase cats up trees again, alright?" she said. "Especially not the ones that are easy to climb."

"If that happens again, I'll fix her up," said Winry.

The phone rang.

Al snatched up the receiver so fast that the motion was barely visible.

"Hello?!" he said desperately, and then sighed with relief at the sound of the person on the other end of the line. "Brother, you're alright!"

"It's Edward?" Granny looked up from cleaning off her wrench. "Tell him I want him on the next train to Resembool. He's already spent long enough surrounded by soldiers; I don't want him getting any more funny ideas about what he's capable of. Unless he's willing to pay rush order fees."

Al wasn't listening.

"Not coming home?" he said, loud enough for Winry and Granny to hear. "Why not?"

"Ugh, I knew it," Winry said angrily. "I knew he'd get himself arrested someday, that idiot!"

"Well, at least they're giving him a phone call," said Granny, and laid down her wrench. "Seriously now, Winry: get my coat. That Grumman's not going to know what hit him!"

Winry was about to make a move, but Al held up a hand, indicating for them to stop. He pressed the receiver further into his ear.

"Oh my god," he muttered. "Are you serious?!"

"What is it?" asked Winry. "Al, what's happened?"

Al didn't reply. He was too busy listening to his older brother.

"No," he said quietly. "No! No, that's horrible! That can't be! How could- no! Brother, please tell me that's not true!"

Neither Winry nor Granny said anything, as the situation seemed to have exceeded their expectations. Even Den was sitting, waiting patiently for the phone conversation to finish.

Al covered his mouth. Whatever he was hearing, it had come as a massive shock.

"No…" he repeated quietly.

"Alphonse?" said Winry. "Are you okay?"

Al still didn't reply.

"I understand," he said. "Thank you for letting me know, Brother. Tell him I'll be thinking of him and that I hope he makes a full recovery."

He nodded.

"I'll see you soon. Take care, Edward."

He laid the receiver down on its holster.

"Who were you talking about?" asked Granny.

"Al, what's happened?" asked Winry.

Al looked round at them with a face like he was about to scream.

"Something horrible has happened," he explained.

* * *

><p>Ed spent quite a while looking down at the receiver in his hands, wishing he could have said more or phrased his side of the conversation a little better.<p>

"How'd he take it?" asked Major Blitz.

"Better than I expected," said Ed, putting the receiver down, "but he was still pretty upset."

He stretched his arms and yawned.

"Guess I'd better find myself a hotel room," he said, "seeing as I'm probably going to be staying here for a while."

He pulled the book out of his trouser lining and held it out to the soldier.

"While I'm doing that," he said, "do you think you can make sure Aerrow gets this? One of his friends found it earlier today and it's pretty important that he reads what's inside."

Major Blitz stared down at the book.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It would take too long to explain," said Ed. "I just think it would be best if he had it. Plus it might take his mind off what's happened."

After a few more seconds of staring, the Major took the book.

"Alright," he said. "I'll get it to him as soon as I can."

Ed smiled in gratitude, and he started walking away in search of the exit.

Major Blitz looked out the window, at the blaze-orange sky and glowing pink clouds that hovered within it. It was amazing how quickly time could pass when you weren't paying attention to it.

Or maybe it was just the time of the year. It was autumn, after all. The nights were drawing in and getting colder and colder. It was only half-past six and the sun was setting, but in a week's time it would probably be down by six o'clock or earlier, and colder still.

He hoped that Aerrow could be returned to his home before the chill properly set in.

Speaking of which, after one final puzzled glance at the book he now held, he set off in the direction of the exit.


	5. Chapter 4

"It wasn't random."

The Storm Hawks looked up at the sound of Piper's voice.

"It can't have been random," she said. "What happened to Aerrow? People don't just snipe teenagers in the street unless they're totally psycho. I can't be the only one thinking this."

"You're not," said Stork. "This whole thing stinks like Finn's socks."

"And on top of that, it was a sniper," Finn pointed out. "Which means it would have had to be pretty far away to go unnoticed. I know a thing or two about sniping and you have to be quick and a _very_ good shot. And if the shooter had a scope, then that would mean…"

"They were deliberately aiming for his leg," Junko muttered. "They wanted to make sure he couldn't run away."

If Radarr had anything to add, he didn't show it. He had been curled up on the sofa for hours, barely moving except for his breathing.

"Who would want to do something like this?" Piper wondered. "I know Aerrow's never avoided making enemies, but who would he have to upset so much for them to do something this horrible?"

Again, nobody could think of anything to add.

"I guess we might not find out until he comes home," Piper finished.

_If _he decided to come home.

* * *

><p>He couldn't take it anymore.<p>

Aerrow sat up, fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to streamline his wild thoughts into a single idea.

If this emptiness lasted one day longer, he wouldn't be able to continue.

Might as well end it before it got worse, right?

He twisted around, rested his bare feet on the cold floor, and paused.

What could he do it with?

Never mind. He'd find a way.

He stood up, wavering as he tried not to put any weight on his left leg. Initially using the bedside cabinet for support, he hopped over to the door and leaned on the frame.

Careful to be quiet - he didn't want anybody seeing him and trying to stop him - he opened the door, slipped out and limped down the hallway in search of a place where nobody would be able to find him.

Several doors down he had to rest, and slumped into a chair to try to catch his breath.

Only a few metres down the hallway and he was already exhausted.

He really was useless.

Nobody would miss someone as pathetic as him.

Didn't this hospital have an open rooftop?

He saw a sign on the wall at the end of the hallway, with an arrow pointing to one side that said 'Roof Access'.

Yes, that would work.

Perfectly.

Leaning on the wall for support, he made his way down the hallway, past what felt like endless doors and corridors, praying that nobody would see and try to intercept him.

After what could have been a lifetime, he found the set of stairs that led up to the roof, and ascended to the outside.

A soft, chilling wind blew in his face as he closed the door behind him and leaned against the woodwork. The moon was gibbous and bright, illuminating the rooftop enough for him to see the lines of laundered sheets fluttering like ghosts and the railing that ran around the edge nearby.

Nobody else was there.

No witnesses.

Aerrow stumbled over to the railing and caught himself on the cold metal. He leaned over it, looking down at the concrete pavement far, far below, which only seemed further away the longer he stared.

He could throw himself over and nobody would care.

Not even...

Would they?

* * *

><p>Major Blitz rubbed his sore head as he walked through the hallways, making a beeline for Aerrow's room. He figured it would be best to keep in as close contact with the boy as possible, considering...<p>

And even if that wasn't the case, the poor kid needed as much help as he could get, and the Dust Storm Alchemist had sworn that he would be the one to provide it.

But when he looked through the small window in the door, he saw the bed was empty.

_Shit_.

He threw the door open and ran in, heart suddenly pounding in his chest as he looked around and saw that there was nobody else in there.

"Shit," he muttered as he dropped what he had been holding onto the pillow, "shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_..."

After looking around out the door, he started running, despite not knowing for sure where he should go. Reaching the hallway's intersection, he saw the sign pointing towards the rooftop.

He wouldn't, would he?

Considering his state of mind, it was perfectly plausible that he would.

The Major turned on his heels and sprinted in the direction the sign had indicated, his shoes slipping a little on the practically frictionless floor as he followed the rest of the signs until he reached the staircase leading to the roof.

Though he was struggling to catch his breath by this point, he took the steps two at a time and wrenched the door almost off its hinges.

Panting, he looked around the windswept space.

"Holy shi..." he gasped, unable to finish the curse.

The boy was sitting against the railing, curled up into a ball and hugging his legs with his face hidden behind his knees. As the soldier approached, he noticed he was shivering, and pulled a dried sheet from the line nearby.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked, despite it being rather obvious.

Aerrow didn't look up.

"I couldn't do it," he said in a shaky voice. "I was going to jump over, but I couldn't do it. I wanted to, and I still want to, but I-I couldn't."

Major Blitz stood over him, watching his quivering form.

"I was almost there," Aerrow continued. "I was almost gone, I almost had it, but... but then I got thinking... about my friends in Atmos... my squadron... Piper... Finn... Junko... Stork... Radarr, I-I thought... would they miss me?"

"They would," said the Major. "Trust me. Sky squadrons tend to have trouble coping if one of their members goes missing."

The curled-up boy struggled to avoid sobbing.

"You must be freezing," Major Blitz realised, and he sat down next to the boy and wrapped the sheet around his shoulders. To his relief, Aerrow released his legs and sat up straighter, still refusing to look at the soldier's face but allowing himself more room to breathe.

"Thank you," he said weakly, and the gratitude in his voice was heart-breaking. "I don't even know why you're being so nice to me, Major. I don't-"

"You need all the help you can get," said the alchemist, rubbing his back in what he could only pray was a comforting way. "Do you want to go back inside?"

"Not yet," said Aerrow.

He looked up, still keeping his eyes away from the soldier's, and the wind blew into his face.

"It was the wind that did it," he said, and blinked a tear out of his eye. "Up here, i-it reminded me of Atmos, of home a-and of my squadron... they're my family... but I don't know if I'll ever be able to face them again-"

"Why not?" asked Major Blitz.

Aerrow looked horrified.

"Why not?!" he echoed in shock. "Why do you think? You know what happened, don't you? Do you think they would ever want me back when I'm-?"

"Listen to me, Aerrow," said the soldier, and the Sky Knight fell silent at the sound of his name. "You have every reason to return to them, and they have every reason to want you back. I know right now you feel as though your world has come to an end, like you don't have any prospect of a future outside what happened to you, but I promise that you will find hope again. You _will_ get better. You _will_ find a way out."

The boy silently pulled the sheet tighter around his body.

"But I couldn't even jump off this roof," he pointed out. "I'm so-"

"You're not useless," said Major Blitz, "or spoiled or dirty or broken or anything else you might be thinking of yourself right now. You've had a horrible experience and you need time to recover from it. That's all. There's no point in ending your life tonight. If you give it some time, things are going to get better, I promise."

"How do you know?!" Aerrow demanded desperately, and the alchemist noted how he still kept his eyes off his face. "How do you know all of this? What the hell happened to _you_ to make you such a fucking expert?!"

Resting it on the cold ground, the Major curled his other hand into a tight fist.

"I lost my family," he replied.

Aerrow's eyes widened in shock.

"I lost my wife," said Major Blitz. "I haven't seen her in over a decade, and the same goes for my son. He would be your age by now. And I've been trying for years and years to find a way to get them back, but it's felt like a waste of time. It's why I started studying alchemy, why I decided to enlist with the State. Surely having this status and funding could bring me closer to them, right?"

He sighed exasperatedly.

"No such luck," he muttered.

Aerrow bowed his head in shame.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have-"

"It's alright," said the Major. "I wouldn't have expected you to know."

"But I should've," Aerrow said wretchedly, and the tears began flowing freely down his face. "I should've known you'd had some kind of experience, I... god, I feel so stupid!"

"Don't," said Major Blitz.

"I'm sorry!" Aerrow moaned.

He allowed the soldier to pull him into a hug. Part of his mind warned him that this was a potential threat in the making, that he should try to get away, but a majority of his thoughts were such that he was in vital need of comfort. And in any case, this was the man that had saved him. He was trustworthy. He was safe.

So the Sky Knight wept into the Dust Storm Alchemist's shoulder, not holding anything back as his cries echoed out into the night and the strong, protective arms of the soldier tightened around his body.

"You're going to be alright," said Major Blitz. "You'll see. Just keep yourself alive and you will make a full recovery. I did. You can too. You'll see."

Still holding the crying teen, he carefully got to his feet and positioned Aerrow to stand on his own.

"Can you walk by yourself or do you want my help?" he asked.

"I..." Aerrow said hesitantly, head bowed in shame. "I guess I could really use some help right now."

Major Blitz held him tightly around the shoulders and made sure he didn't lean too hard on his left leg as they walked back to the door and down the stairs.

"I expect you're more than ready for a good night's sleep, aren't you?" asked the soldier. "You've been staying awake too much, thinking too much."

"I know," Aerrow said sadly, "but when I sleep I have nightmares. My friend Stork has this helmet thing that sends him straight to sleep for hours, and he says he doesn't have any dreams with it."

"Maybe you could ask to borrow it the next time you see him," Major Blitz suggested.

"I can't," said Aerrow. "I said earlier. I don't think I'll ever be able to face them again."

"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

"Maybe, I guess."

They walked/hobbled in silence for the rest of the journey, with Aerrow keeping his head down the whole way and barely looking anywhere except at the floor. The alchemist wordlessly pulled him forward, moving at a speed that he could manage and never seeming like he was trying to rush him.

Aerrow had no idea what he was supposed to say. He'd never expected anybody to show him this sort of kindness.

It felt like an eternity before they reached his door.

"I can go from here," said Aerrow.

"Are you sure?" asked the Major.

"Yes," Aerrow said. "Thanks for helping me get back here."

"Alright," said the alchemist. "I have something to take care of, I'll be right back."

He let go of the Sky Knight, who grabbed the door handle to keep from falling, and departed down the hallway.

Aerrow almost fell down when he opened the door, as it swung open too fast and he very nearly lost his balance, but managed to correct himself by hobbling forward and causing himself agony in his leg.

He looked up at the bed that was his destination and froze in shock.

Something was sitting on the pillow.

Something small, rectangular and weather-beaten.

After closing the door behind him, he limped to the bed and almost collapsed onto it, and slipped beneath the covers before taking the object off his pillow to examine.

It was a book.

Curious, he opened it to the first page, and almost dropped it out of astonishment.

_If found, please return to_

_Lightning Strike - Storm Hawk_

_The Condor_

_Wherever_

Lightning Strike?

_The_ Lightning Strike?!

Suddenly fascinated, Aerrow turned the page to find the first entry.

* * *

><p><em>1896<em>

_19th February_

_Really wish Floyd would hurry up and fix the heating system. I woke up this morning with frost on my sheets and icicles in my hair. I think that's the last time we moor at Blizzaris in winter - call me silly, but I like waking up with all my fingers and toes intact._

_I drew the short straw this week, and of course nobody volunteered to give me a hand, but I saw something weird as I was heading back to the Condor. There was this kid sitting in an alley, just watching everybody go past, and they were all ignoring him. It was like he was a ghost or something. Couldn't have been older than nine or ten._

_I saw his eyes. They looked completely empty - no emotion, nothing. And they were so dark, like coal. He looked at me, but it was like he didn't even see me. He must've really been through something horrible. I'll have a chat with the team and see if they'd be okay with bringing him on board. We do have an extra room that's been empty ever since Dad left._

_I guess he's not coming back, huh? If he really didn't want to have to hang around me anymore, he could have just said so. Bastard._

_22nd February_

_I finally managed to bring the kid on board. He sure has a lot of energy for somebody who looked ready to give up on existing. I'm glad I picked up some extra apples the other day, because he was eating like he hadn't in weeks! Although judging by the looks of him, that's probably what happened. In hindsight, it may have been a good idea to tell him I was going to help him, because as I was bringing him in he was kicking and screaming like I was going to try to kill him._

_He's rather quiet. Didn't even talk until I asked him what he was doing on the streets. He told me his orphanage burned down and he had nowhere to go. You should've seen his face when I offered to let him live with us. He just... lit up! Like all his birthdays had come at once! I honestly didn't think it was possible for anyone to look that happy._

_He didn't want to tell me his name. Said it was embarrassing. So I asked him if I could maybe give him a name, and I decided to call him Ace. He seemed to like it, but of course everybody else is telling me off for not coming up with something more imaginative. Jubilee tried to call him something silly; I don't really remember what, but he didn't seem very impressed, so Ace it is._

* * *

><p>Aerrow almost smiled. So far Lightning Strike seemed like a pretty cool guy. He wished he could have had an opportunity to meet him, or at least see him in real life.<p>

There was a photo glued on the next page, showing a small boy, no older than ten, with black hair that spiked out all over the place, curled up and fast asleep. There was something strangely familiar about him, but he tried not to dwell too much on it.

* * *

><p><em>3rd March<em>

_Today was quite a fiasco! Ace has been bugging me ever since we brought him in to take him for a ride on my skimmer, but I'd definitely had my doubts about it. The kid's so small I was worried he'd be blown right off the moment we set out, but he was being extra annoying today, so I decided there wouldn't be any harm in taking him for a quick spin around the Condor. But then he leapt right on and sped off by himself! Didn't deploy the wings or anything!_

_I grabbed my glider and followed him, and I got him to deploy the wings and pull up and I was going to take over, but then he started flying all by himself. I only had to tell him what to do a couple of times, he did everything else on his own. The kid's a natural! I just wish I'd brought him in sooner; I could've used somebody with his kind of talent weeks ago!_

_So I've come to a decision. From now on, Ace is going to be my co-pilot. I knew I had a reason for giving him that name and it's never been more fitting than now. Hell, with a little more training, he'll probably be the best damn pilot the Atmos has ever seen!_

* * *

><p>Aerrow's mouth twitched again. He wouldn't have minded meeting this Ace kid. He sounded like a lot of fun.<p>

He flipped ahead a few pages. The entries didn't seem to be in a specific sequence, just when something happened that was apparently worth writing about. The next one he landed on was over a year later.

* * *

><p><em>1897<em>

_27th May_

_I'm in love. I don't think there's any other explanation for it. My head feels light, my stomach feels strange, and I can't stop thinking about what happened earlier today._

_We received a distress call from Terra Tranqua, a little place not far from Cyclonia, and it was under attack by Talons. We arrived and of course a fight broke out, but I saw a group of them hounding this girl trying to fight them off. But as I was watching that, one of them shot me and hit my glider, so I had to get Ace to fly me really close so I could jump off, but then one of the bastards pushed her off the edge of the terra!_

_I jumped off after her and managed to grab her, but of course my glider failed. I swear, if Ace hadn't swooped in when he did..._

_But then I finally got a good look at her, and she is. A. Knockout. Says her name is Oiseau, and I just think that's the prettiest name I've ever heard in my life. Seriously, look at her! I'm amazed that she'd let me take her picture, but then she wrote her radio frequency on the back and I think that means she likes me too!_

_But now Ace and Spike are dancing around the ship chanting 'Lightning's got a girlfriend' over and over again, and Floyd and Jubilee have told them at least ten times to shut up. Honestly, I don't care. Oiseau is gorgeous and I'll definitely be radioing her in the future._

* * *

><p>Another photo was stuck in, this one showing an attractive young woman blushing happily and fiddling with her dark green hair that was almost black. She was definitely pretty, but that wasn't what stood out the most. To Aerrow, the most noticeable thing about her was her eyes.<p>

They looked exactly like his.

He flipped forward again, finding an entry from the year 1898.

* * *

><p><em>18th April<em>

_Today was... a little strange. I'd received word that the Rex Guardians had elected a new leader, so we thought we'd drop by and say hi, make the guy feel welcome. When we got there, not only were they not too happy to see us, but the guy was barely older than me! And yet the first thing he did after telling me his name was Harrier was ask me what I was doing with some kid hanging off me. I think if I hadn't been there, Ace would have scratched his eyes out._

* * *

><p>Aerrow decided to skip this one. He already knew plenty about Harrier to see where that was going.<p>

* * *

><p><em>25th September<em>

_Today..._

_I realised two years ago that Dad wasn't going to come back. I assumed he'd just walked out, and I guessed he must have just got tired of me or found some other squadron to lead, or just retired with some girl somewhere. And it's only today that I found out the truth, and only because one of the Talons I kicked off this ship didn't know how to keep their mouth shut._

_He went to Cyclonia. He wanted to sneak in there and assassinate the Master, to take care of the problem once and for all. But he was found, captured and thrown into the Wastelands after being..._

_They said 'hamstrung'. It's when the muscles in your legs are cut so you can't walk. The thought of my father, the leader and Sky Knight of the Storm Hawks, crawling around in that hellish place... he probably knew he wasn't going to make it out alive. I can just imagine him, struggling to stay awake, desperate for water, bleeding, exhausted..._

_I'm going to destroy that place. I'm going to tear it apart brick by brick and stone every single person and creature in there to death with the bricks if I have to. And I probably would if my teammates hadn't conspired against me and locked me in my room, so I've had to settle for tearing that apart instead. I can't seem to get my shield out of the ceiling - I don't think Jet's going to be impressed._

_I can't believe I just thought he'd walk out. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have been so blind? Was I just THAT excited to finally take his place? I'm such an IDIOT!_

* * *

><p>The next couple of pages were just the word 'stupid' over and over and over again.<p>

* * *

><p><em>How am I supposed to look any of my teammates in the eye ever again? Ace is knocking on the door, asking if I'm alright - he's only twelve! What am I supposed to say to him?!<em>

_What am I supposed to say to Oiseau?_

_I don't know if I'll be able to face her next month, and I can't even imagine how beautiful she'll look. That dress she showed me... she's so amazing. I'll have to tell her eventually - I know that for sure - and I won't be surprised if she calls the whole arrangement off. I can't let her marry an irresponsible moron._

* * *

><p>Aerrow's heart twanged with sympathy. He'd never known his father and so he'd never been able to resent him for not being around, but he could still understand how crushed Lightning Strike must have felt. To discover something so horrible...<p>

He flipped to about halfway through the journal, to the year 1900.

* * *

><p><em>28<em>_th__ February_

_I seriously can't believe what's happened. I mean, I knew it had to happen eventually, I know it couldn't not happen, but it's still only just beginning to sink in._

_I'm a father._

_I have a son!_

_And he's so tiny and adorable, I can barely believe it! And when I held him for the first time and he grabbed my thumb with that little hand of his, I thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest. He's perfect in every possible way, from his tiny toenails to his little tuft of black hair and those eyes... he has Oiseau's eyes. Same shape, same beautiful sparkle, same deep and brilliant shade of green. I couldn't have asked for better._

_We're not sure what we should call him yet, but I want it to be something memorable and cool. Oiseau hasn't had any ideas as of now, but I don't want to turn to my team for help. Jubilee will probably suggest the worst possible thing, Spike will want to name him Spike, Jet will be too busy and I don't think Floyd likes me too much anymore. He and Jet still haven't hammered that shield-dent out of my ceiling._

_Ace has already suggested a load of names though. They're all quite good, but the one that stands out the most to me is 'Aerrow'. I don't know... it just has a nice ring to it. I'll make sure to suggest it to Oiseau in the morning. Can't wait to rub this in Harry's fat smug face._

* * *

><p>It took all of Aerrow's self-control to not throw the book down and hide under his covers like it was a monster from under the bed. All he could do instead was sit there, staring at the old photograph of a tiny baby wrapped in a white sheet, looking sleepily up at the camera.<p>

It was him. Aerrow knew that he was looking at a photo of himself.

And Lightning Strike... was his father.

_His_ father.

His _father_.

The words kept running around and around in his head. He'd heard of course that he was descended from Lightning Strike, but only that. That they were related. But not that they were THAT closely related. Not that Lightning Strike, the greatest of all Sky Knights, was…

His _father?!_

He gently placed it down on the bedside cabinet, making sure it wouldn't close, then curled up in as tight a ball as he could and tried to stop trembling.

How had that book even got into this room? Somebody must have put it there. Was it one of his teammates? It must have been! They were the only ones who'd have been able to find it! Was this their twisted way of telling him that they wanted him to come back?

It wasn't going to work. He knew he wasn't going to go back. He'd never be able to face them after what had happened to him. And if they knew, which they most likely did by now, they wouldn't want him with them anymore.

His throat started hurting and fresh tears sprang into his eyes. He needed someone. Anyone.

The door opened and he pulled some more of the covers over his head, but not enough that he couldn't see the bottom half of a blue military uniform.

"I've informed the staff of what's happened," said the extremely welcome voice of the Dust Storm Alchemist, "and they'll be stationing guards outside your room from now on. I know you probably don't want to try that again, but you should understand that precautions have to be taken."

Aerrow felt a hand on his shoulder and, strangely enough, he did feel a little calmer. The trembling lessened to a small shiver, and even that slowed to a halt when the mattress bent under the soldier's weight.

"You've had a rough day," he said. "Rougher than usual. Just try to get some... what's this?"

The shiver started again as Aerrow watched the journal being lifted from the cabinet, and heard pages being turned. He wanted to snatch it back and cuddle it to his chest. It was Lightning Strike's- his father's private journal. Who was this soldier to just read it like it was anybody's?

"Where did you get this?" The voice was strange. Calm, yet clearly surprised.

"I don't know," Aerrow admitted. "It was on my bed when I came back and I was... I was just curious, that's all. It's a journal, but it's not mine; I-I didn't mean to pry, but I-"

"This is your predecessor's private journal," said Dust Storm, "isn't it?"

Aerrow nodded slowly, hoping it would be noticeable under the sheet. He almost fainted with relief when the journal was placed back on the cabinet, apparently the same position as before.

"You have the right to read it," Dust Storm told him. "Don't worry; I won't say anything of this to anybody else."

Aerrow felt the weight disappear and saw the soldier's back as he made to leave.

"Is it okay if you tell me your name?"

Dust Storm paused.

"I was just wondering," said the hiding boy. "I can't just keep thinking of you as Dust Storm. What should I call you?"

The soldier turned to look at him, and Aerrow adjusted the sheet slightly. He didn't want to see his face, to have to look him in the eye.

"It's Blitz," he said. "Major Wilhelm Blitz."

Wilhelm Blitz. That was... actually a pretty cool name.

"Thank you," said Aerrow. "Thank you, Major Blitz. You've been so nice to me and I... thank you. So much."

He started sweating. Had he said too much? Or not enough?

To his alarm, Major Blitz came over and started stroking his head, but... but he didn't want to shy away. It felt nice. Comforting. He found himself almost drifting away to sleep right there and then.

"It's nothing," said the alchemist. "You need all the help you can get and I'm happy to give as much as I can."

"Why?" Aerrow asked. "How can you even look at me when I'm...?"

"When you're what?" Blitz asked. "You're not dirty or ruined or disgusting or whatever you may think of yourself, you're just ill. And tired. Try to get some sleep, alright? You'll feel better for it, believe me."

"Will you stay with me?" Aerrow said before he could be stopped. "Just... just until I fall asleep. Please. Don't... I don't want to be alone."

To his immense relief, Major Blitz sat back down on the bed.

"Fair enough," he said. "Don't worry, I won't go."

He brought his hand into view and Aerrow took it, grateful for the comfort it brought him, and it wasn't long before he drifted away into a deep and peaceful slumber.


	6. Chapter 5

Ed's yawn could probably be heard on the other side of the building.

"Couldn't you sleep?" Major Blitz was leaning against the wall.

"Nah, not much," said Ed. "Couldn't stop thinking about everything that's going on."

He leaned to one side and looked past the soldier, and saw two soldiers – a man and a woman – standing on either side of the door to Aerrow's room. Both looked stern and ferocious; the woman in particular looked as though she could kill somebody at any moment.

"What's with that?" asked Ed. "Are those two guarding him?"

"They're ordered not to let anybody in without permission," Blitz explained, "though it's really more of a case of not letting Aerrow out. They're only on duty for the night, so I'm going to go and relieve them. With what happened last night, I don't want the kid to try anything funny."

"Last night?" Ed was baffled. "What happened last night?"

"Gimme a sec."

As the blond watched, the Major walked over to the guards and saluted, and said something that Ed couldn't hear. The woman briefly caught sight of the ex-alchemist and did a visible double take, but the other guard pulled her away before she could do anything.

Now even more confused, Ed walked over to Major Blitz.

"He hit a real dark spot last night," the soldier explained before the ex-alchemist could complain about being kept in the dark again. "I went into his room to check up on him, but he wasn't there. I found him on the roof and he said he'd wanted to jump off, but he got to thinking about his friends back home and couldn't bring himself to. Poor kid was a mess."

"So how long has it been since the attack?"

"Three nights. So this is the third day. To be honest, I'm surprised he didn't try anything like that sooner."

Ed looked through the window and saw Aerrow curled up again, but this time he was not only facing the door, but had a book in his hand that he was fixed on so intently he looked as though he was hypnotised.

"Looks like he got it," Ed commented. "No trouble?"

"I don't think he knows it was me that left it for him to find," said Blitz, "and I'm not going to tell him that since it's not important, but it's helping to take his mind off what happened to him, so we should be glad of it."

Ed didn't know why, but the expression on the Dust Storm Alchemist's face was rather familiar. Where had he seen that look before?

"You're still giving me déjà vu, you know," he said. "I just _know_ that I've seen you somewhere before. How long have you been with the State?"

"About six weeks, give or take," Blitz replied. "I was in Central during the battle against that Cyclonia place. In fact, I was getting my uniform fitted while it was all raging outside. Seeing it through the window made me feel kinda left out."

"No, trust me," said Ed. "You didn't miss anything."

"That's not what I've heard," said Blitz. "I've heard that Alphonse Elric and that kid right there sealed the universes together with alchemy. You don't think _that_ was worth seeing?"

Ed shrugged. The man had a point, he couldn't argue with that.

"What happened to his coat?" he asked. "He's got a red coat. I should know, I gave it to him as a memento and I think he kinda likes it. Did it get destroyed?"

"I've sent it to be laundered," said Blitz. "He should get it back soon."

Looking through the window again, Ed considered that Aerrow himself would probably want to be laundered.

"Has he eaten?" he asked.

"I'm making sure of that," Blitz said. "I know hospital food's not the best, but this kid needs all the help he can get."

"Yeah, I know," said Ed. "With all that you're doing for him – how you're keeping him guarded and eating and all – anybody would think you were his father or something!"

He and the soldier shared in a brief laugh.

"Yeah, imagine that," said Blitz, "but the truth is, I'm just doing all that I can for him. I found him, right? That makes him my responsibility. I'm trying to keep him grounded while the investigative department tries to find the bastards that did this to him."

He got that look on his face again. Where had Ed seen it before?

Never mind. It would come to him later.

"I'm going in," he said, and knocked on the door. "Wanna make sure he's doing as well as we hope he is."

He entered the room and immediately found himself feeling oppressed by the silence. It was so eerie: there were now two people in this room, but the noise level was as though it was completely empty. The silence was only broken when Aerrow turned a page in the journal. He didn't look up at all.

"You're looking a little better," said Ed, and sat down in the chair. "How do you feel?"

"Mmm."

Ed had been trying to smile, but dropped his attempt at a cheerful demeanour when he realised it was probably going to be _this _kind of conversation.

"I see you got the book," he said. "Your squad mates found it stashed away on the Condor and they thought it would be best if you had it to read for yourself, rather than somebody else trying to-"

"Lightning Strike was my father."

Aerrow closed the book over his finger and lowered it so that his face was visible, but he didn't look up at Ed.

"What?" Ed was confused – he'd only been given the bare details of what was inside – he only knew that it was Lightning Strike's journal, not all the information that had been inside it.

"Lightning Strike," Aerrow said, his voice still blank. "The leader of the Storm Hawks before me. The one who died trying to take down Cyclonia for good over eleven years ago. He was my father and I never even knew it."

Ed had no idea what he was supposed to say. He guessed that he should say something comforting, since he himself had experienced more than his fair share of troubles with his father, but nothing immediately sprang to mind, and trying to compare it to these experiences would only make him look selfish.

"I don't remember him," Aerrow said softly. "I don't remember what he looked like. There're photos in this book, but they're all of other people. I guess he was a better photographer than I am. There's another thing I'm useless at."

He blinked, and his eyes fell further down.

"I would have been four years old by the time he died," he said. "Wouldn't it make sense for me to have _some _idea of what he was like? You remembered your father, didn't you? And you were even younger when he left. How come I don't remember Lightning Strike?"

"But I don't really remember much of my dad," Ed explained. "When I do, it's either him studying at his desk or him leaving. Those are the only two real memories of him that I have. I was barely even potty trained when he left."

"See?" Aerrow responded. "You were younger, but you still remembered what he looked like, didn't you?"

Ed knew what the answer was, but didn't dare to say it.

"And I don't remember my father at all," said Aerrow. "What his voice sounds like or what his face looked like, what colour his eyes were…"

"You will someday," Ed pointed out. "Four years' worth of memories can't have just up and vanished, can they? You're sure to remember your dad at some point."

"It gets worse," said Aerrow. "I don't remember my mother either."

These words were like a punch in Ed's stomach.

"I know what she looks like because there's a photo of her," explained the Sky Knight, "but she doesn't look familiar at all. The only parts of her I recognise are her eyes because I guess I must have inherited them from her. And I _want _to remember her. I know I should, but I don't!"

He wiped at his eyes, clearly trying to avoid crying again.

"The only thing I remember from that time," he said, "is a lullaby."

"A lullaby?" Ed was careful not to sound amused (he wasn't, but to sound it wouldn't help his case).

"Yeah," said Aerrow. "I must have come from that time, because I don't recall hearing it anywhere else."

Ed vaguely remembered the night he'd explained himself to the Storm Hawks and suffered a breakdown from the stress of his situation following that event. Aerrow had comforted him, much like he himself was now in desperate need of comfort, and there had been a song at some point.

What had the lyrics been? _Care not my wild… Carry on my wayfaring… _something along those lines.

"My first memory," said Aerrow "is arriving with Finn on Terra Nimbus. I don't really recall how we met or made friends, but we've stuck together ever since then."

He gulped.

"Do you think you could tell them?" he asked. "Could you tell the others that I won't be coming back?"

"Wouldn't you rather see them again?" said Ed. "You know-"

"I can't. They won't want me. Not like this."

Ed frowned as he stood up.

"They still wanted you after you lost your arm," he pointed out. "Maybe you should think about that."

He walked over to the door, but paused once he had taken hold of the handle.

"I mean, I still want to be your friend," he stated. "I want you to make a full recovery and get back into action. I want you to pull all your crazy stunts and kick all kinds of ass and laugh about it like you always used to. Why wouldn't your family, who've known you for ages longer than I have, want the same thing?"

With that, he stepped back into the corridor and closed the door behind him.

"He's not doing as well as we'd hoped," he said to Major Blitz. "He doesn't seem to be taking the news of his predecessor being his father very well."

"Why not?" asked Blitz.

"He says he doesn't remember anything about him," Ed stated. "Not even what he looks like. Doesn't remember anything about him or his mom. He's hating himself for it."

"Poor kid," Blitz said as he looked through the window. "As if he didn't have enough to think about already."

He still had that look on his face.

"Well," Ed said as he stretched his arms, "I think I should update Al on what's happening. He's probably still worrying. I know what he's like."

"Yeah," Blitz said solemnly, "you do that."

Ed tried not to dwell too much on his tone as he left in search of a phone.

That expression…

_Now_ he remembered.

It was the same kind of look that Hohenheim had worn on the Promised Day, when he had been pleading with Ed to trade his soul for Al.

* * *

><p><em>Ace has already suggested a load of names though. They're all quite good, but the one that stands out the most to me is 'Aerrow'. I don't know... it just has a nice ring to it. I'll make sure to suggest it to Oiseau in the morning. Can't wait to rub this in Harry's fat smug face.<em>

Aerrow didn't know how many times he'd read and reread that last passage. He was almost too frightened to go on any further, in case it turned out his father lost interest in him. In case it turned out the main reason he didn't remember him was because he hadn't wanted to be there.

But by the sounds of the earlier lines, he had been over the moon at the very thought of being a parent, let alone actually having a son.

Try as he may, Aerrow just couldn't summon up any mental images of the man. Presumably his hair was red, since this Oiseau woman had hair that was dark green and he knew this colour would have to come from somewhere, but that was literally the _only _thing he could imagine. He had no idea what the man would look like; how tall he was, his hairstyle, his eye colour…

He heard the door open, but didn't look up. He still didn't feel comfortable with looking at people's faces.

"Good read?" asked Major Blitz.

Aerrow couldn't think of anything to say.

"I expect it must feel strange," said the man, "reading your father's thoughts like that."

Slowly, Aerrow nodded.

"Whatever happened to him, I'm sure that he loved you."

"I don't know," said Aerrow. "I haven't had the courage to go past the bit where he talks about my birth. I don't…"

He trailed off, unable to stifle a yawn.

"When did you wake up?" asked Blitz. "2am? 3? Far too early, that's for sure. You should go back to sleep. Don't think about it too much: it's normal for people in post-traumatic stress to have messed up sleeping patterns."

"I don't know if I'll be able to," Aerrow confessed. "I didn't have any dreams last night, but what if-"

"You don't know until you try," Blitz pointed out. "Just try not to read too much of that journal at once. It's good to learn from the past, but not to dwell on it."

He departed.

Alone again, Aerrow shuffled up so that he was sitting against his pillows.

He took a deep breath and turned several more pages, coming to a rest on a passage set a whole year after the previous one he had read.

* * *

><p><em>1901<em>

_28th February_

_Aerrow's first birthday today. It's hard to believe that a single person could ever be so adorable! I just want to pick him up and cuddle him forever! Strange how he was born with black hair but now he's a little blondie - Oiseau says it runs in the family. It's going to be interesting seeing what colour it is this time next year. Will it be like mine or like hers? Either way, he's bound to look awesome._

_Hard to believe he's walking already. Seems like only yesterday he was so small I could hold him in one arm._

_He's playing with Ace at the moment. I swear those two are thick as thieves. I must admit, I was worried they were going to try to compete for attention, but Ace loves him. I can just picture us teaching him how to fly, showing him how to do stunts just to see the look on his face when he inevitably pulls it off flawlessly._

_Hard to believe it's been almost five years since I brought Ace in. We're gonna have to do something special to celebrate._

_PS Harry wants me to stop calling him with updates about my son. I'm not going to. He's just jealous. I bet he wishes he had a kid as cute as Aerrow._

* * *

><p><em>18th April<em>

_I'm glad I was able to spend time with Aerrow on his birthday, because to tell the truth, I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to spend with him and Oiseau. I keep hearing that Cyclonia are rallying their forces for an attack, but I still haven't heard anything concrete yet. Ace keeps telling me not to worry, but I know he just wants me to feel better._

_I know I could probably invite them both to stay on the Condor - we have plenty of room, and Oiseau and Jubilee are quite good friends, plus Aerrow would just love to explore - but the thing is, I can't. If I take into account just how many fights and bad situations we find ourselves in on an almost weekly basis... it's no place for a toddler to grow up. It's far too dangerous. I couldn't stand to lose either of them, even temporarily._

_I think I'm going start carrying a picture of my family around with me - not just to rub in Harry's face (much as he may pretend to dislike it) but as a reminder of what I'm fighting for. I want a safe world for my son to grow up in. I'm going to teach him how to fight when he's old enough, but the point is that I shouldn't need to. Ace agrees with me on this - I think he suspects Cyclonians burned down the orphanage he used to live in. _

_I'm glad I took him in when I did. Just imagine if he'd become a Talon!_

_Aerrow, I promise you now. I will gladly let Cyclonis blast me into the Wastelands if it means you will be safe._

* * *

><p>Wow. So Lightning Strike did love him. Aerrow found himself running his fingers along that last sentence several times, wondering just how many passages his father had devoted to him.<p>

The next few pages brought nothing too thrilling - that is, until he landed on an entry in the middle of 1902.

* * *

><p><em>21st June<em>

_I'm still trying to figure out what's happened._

_It was in the middle of the battle and I was fighting off Talons left and right, but then I had to go back down to my ride and leave the rest to Spike and Jubilee because Ace wasn't there anymore. I didn't see his parachute open and I didn't hear him shout anything to me. It was like he'd just vanished into thin air!_

_My best guess is that the Talons captured him, but I don't have any idea why they'd do that. Is it because he's a teenager and they're hoping they can brainwash him into becoming one of them? If that's the case, I swear I'll tear that entire terra apart, stone by ugly stone, until I get him back. He's more than just my co-pilot, he's my best friend! (best make sure Spike doesn't read that)_

_Oiseau and Aerrow are calling later tonight, but I'm not sure what I'm going to say to them after today. Maybe I was wrong about them. If I can't even hold onto my co-pilot, how the hell am I supposed to be a husband and father?_

_No._

_I have to keep going. For their sake, I have to keep fighting. I swear I'll find you, Ace. Just hold on._

* * *

><p><em>22nd June<em>

_Set out with Spike, Floyd and Jubilee to look for Ace. No luck._

* * *

><p><em>23rd June<em>

_Left again to search for Ace. Jet says it would be too dangerous to get too close to Cyclonia, so we're steering clear for the time being. Still no sign of him._

* * *

><p><em>24th June<em>

_Jubilee says it might be best to stop searching and just get some sleep, but I'm not going to. I know Ace is out there somewhere; I'm just not looking in the right place, that's all. I have to find him. I HAVE to._

* * *

><p><em>25th June<em>

_Thank. GOD._

_So just as I was about to give up the search, the radio starts crackling and just who does it turn out to be? That's right: my awesome co-pilot went ahead and found his own way back to the Condor. I knew I couldn't give up! And he's gone ahead and come back all by himself!_

_But whenever I try to go near him, he just tells me to stay away. Hasn't told me why. I swear, if somebody's hurt him..._

_He's sleeping at the moment. I must say, the idea does sound rather_

* * *

><p>The entry just cut off.<p>

He must have fallen asleep mid-sentence, Aerrow realised, and the beginnings of a smile ticked his lips.

* * *

><p><em>28th June<em>

_Something is DEFINITELY wrong with my co-pilot. I found him earlier today huddled in the storage locker with Jubilee trying and failing to coax him out. He kept saying he would hurt us if he came out and that he didn't want to. He's never been like this before, can you blame me for being worried?_

_And then, when I did finally convince him to come out, he knocked me to the ground and started punching me! It took Jubilee, Jet AND Floyd to pull him off and then the kid had no idea what was going on! I mean, this is going to make for an interesting story when I talk to Oiseau and Aerrow later, but... WOW. I'm glad I got out of that with all my teeth intact!_

_But I digress._

_Ace has never acted this violent in all the time I've known him. It was like he'd become a completely different person, and I'm really worried that if we don't get to the root of it soon he's going to end up hurting somebody._

_It must have been something that happened to him during his disappearance, but he still doesn't want to talk about those days. I'll try to convince him to trust me again and talk to me about it, but I'm beginning to wonder if the Ace I knew is gone. If he is, I sincerely hope there's a way to get him back._

* * *

><p><em>30th June<em>

_I am going to fly out to Cyclonia and tear it to pieces with my bare hands for what that evil BITCH has done to my co-pilot. I'm glad I finally got him to open up, but..._

_Okay, I'll try not to get ahead of myself._

_He told me that the Talons captured him and took him back to that horror of a place, and then he was brought before the Master herself in all her ugliness. That she looked at him like a dog looks at a hunk of meat. That she poured some kind of glittering red powder into a goblet and then he was held down and forced to drink the contents, and they didn't even have the good grace to keep him prisoner! They just threw him out like they didn't even want him! If all they wanted was to make somebody drink something, why him? Why my co-pilot? If they wanted to hurt me or my team, surely it would make more sense to hurt me or my team!_

_I guess it does explain quite a lot. Every night since then, he's been writhing and convulsing in his sleep, and talking as well. This wouldn't be half as strange if he wasn't also replying to himself. It's like... I'm not quite sure how to put it. Did that red powder contain a personality or something? It's almost as if Ace is now two people in a single body, and from what I can tell, they're fighting for control._

_If this is the case, I really hope Ace can win._

* * *

><p><em>2nd September<em>

_Well, that was... an experience._

_I figured Ace must have wrestled back some control by now, so I asked him if maybe I could talk to the person who was put there by Master Cyclonis - the second being that occupies his body. I have to admit, it was very nerve-wracking. I didn't even know if I was going to walk out of that room with all my limbs still attached to my body!_

_But then... how can I put this? Ace... he went all stiff and shivered a little, but then he opened his eyes and it was like he was an entirely different person! His eyes were narrower, his voice was deeper, and there was something really sinister about the way he smiled at me. Like he was trying to figure out the quickest and most efficient way to kill me and didn't even care how much I knew about it._

_That conversation, next to the wait while my adorable son was being born, is probably the single tensest experience of my life. I got this sense that whoever it was that controlled Ace's body, they could snap at any second and try to destroy me by any means possible. I won't lie, it was damn scary, and I'm glad it's over and done with. He refused to tell me anything about where he'd come from or what he wanted, just that 'a reckoning is coming' and that I should be prepared. Man, was I glad when the real Ace came back._

_I've had a word with the team, him included, and we all think it's best that he be confined to the Condor from now on and that he only leave during missions. Like it or not, I still need my co-pilot. For convenience's sake, we've also come up with a name for the second personality, and thanks to Jubilee's ever-wonderful naming skills, it shall henceforth be known as Dark Ace._

* * *

><p>Wait.<p>

What?

Aerrow reread the final paragraph.

_What?!_

Then he reread the entire entry at least three times.

_**WHAT?!**_

All this time... the _Dark Ace_... was... Lightning Strike's _co-pilot?!_

No wonder that kid in the photograph looked familiar! No wonder the mere sight of that bastard's face caused him to be completely consumed with rage! The thought that he had lived on the same ship as that son of a...

He'd named him. He had actually _named _him. The Dark Ace – the Dark goddamn Ace – had _given Aerrow his name._

He felt sick. He felt sick somewhere further down than his stomach.

Part of him wanted to throw the book down and never touch it again, but a much stronger part urged him to keep going, to see what the outcome was going to be, even though his inner pessimist was already putting the pieces together to form a large and extremely tragic picture.

* * *

><p><em>1903<em>

_1__st__ March_

_I swear, I'm spending longer and longer away from home and it's getting harder and harder to leave every time I go back. Aerrow's little face when I had to try to explain it... he's only three! What was I supposed to say? And seeing those big green eyes looking up at me under that mass of red... I want to bring him and Oiseau onto the Condor permanently, I really do, but that would probably be more dangerous than if they just stayed on Tranqua!_

_I'm beginning to wonder if confining Ace to the Condor was the right thing to do. We're not letting anybody else know what's happened to him: not Harry, not Oiseau and certainly not Aerrow. If word gets out about what's happened to him, the whole of Atmos will be out for his blood! He's only seventeen and I can tell, ever since we got him back, that he is completely and utterly terrified. Whenever it seems like Dark Ace is gone for good, he pops right back up again and starts pulling the ship to pieces. We're still cleaning up after last time and Jet still hasn't let him out of his room._

_On top of that, Cyclonia seems to be buzzing a little more than usual. I'd compare it to a beehive, but that would imply that they actually do something there that would be of benefit, so it's really more like a wasp's nest. And it looks like the queen wasp is coming up with a way to overwhelm the Atmos with all her soldier wasps until we're all just wasped out of existence. Don't know anything for sure though, so it looks like we might just have to wait and see._

_And I HATE that._

* * *

><p>Amazingly, the next entry wasn't until a whole year had passed.<p>

* * *

><p><em>1904<em>

_1__st__ March_

_Why did I feel such a lingering sense of dread as I said farewell to Aerrow and Oiseau yesterday? Is it because it was the first time I'd seen them in over six months? Is it because Oiseau had already accepted that I'd be away for long periods when I married her, but Aerrow is still holding onto the hope that I'll come home every evening to tell him the stories he loves so much? Or is it the knowledge that comes with every visit that it may be the last time I ever see their faces?_

_I'm glad I had that picture taken. It's going to be the one that I keep with me as a reminder of what I'm fighting for. Aerrow's beginning to get big and he has so much energy - I want to be able to teach him how to fight properly so that he can defend himself, his terra, his mother, because let's face it - no matter how hard I try, I'm not going to be able to watch the whole Atmos._

_And the worst part is saying that I'll be back, when I can never know for sure if that's true or not..._

_Speaking of which, I've received confirmation that Master Cyclonis has rallied an enormous force (apparently she even recruited the Raptors) to mount a large-scale assault and attempted invasion of... well, pretty much everywhere. I'm going to speak with Harry about rallying for a counter-offensive._

_PS: Haven't heard from Dark Ace for about two months. Don't know if I should be glad or worried._

* * *

><p><em>20th April<em>

_This is it._

_Tomorrow is the big battle. The day Cyclonia make their move. I'll be at the forefront of our forces with Ace by my side. I know there's still that other side of him, but he's my co-pilot and best friend of eight years. I trust him with my life._

_And in case I don't make it back..._

_Oiseau, you are the love of my life. I've never met any one person more compassionate, more understanding or more beautiful in all my years in this world or any other. Know that I'll always be thinking of you, no matter what happens._

_And Aerrow..._

_Don't be afraid._

* * *

><p>That was it.<p>

Aerrow flicked through the pages, trying to find another entry, but they were all blank. Every single one. That... that was the last thing Lightning Strike had ever written in this journal.

And it was addressed to...

'Don't be afraid,' Aerrow thought. 'I tried; I really did, but...'

His thoughts came to a stop as he found the inside back cover of the book.

There, secured by a single small strip of tape, was a photograph. It showed a family, and a happy one at that, sitting on the edge of a fountain hugging each other and smiling.

There was the mother, a woman in her mid-twenties with short spiky hair that was such a dark shade of green that it was almost black, and green eyes that sparkled in the light of the sun. There was the child, no more than four years old, hugging his mother and laughing happily, his red hair shining and green eyes glinting with innocence and...

...and the father, hugging his two companions with a happy smile betrayed by melancholy dark eyes of unidentifiable colour, and hair as red as his sons'. One arm was around the proud mothers' shoulders, the other playing with the little boys' hair.

Aerrow could have stared at this image for a lifetime.

It was him.

With his parents.

Happy.

Carefree.

Innocent.

And he stared at the two adults on either side of him, trying and failing to recall where he'd seen their faces outside this book.

Or in the man's case, this single photograph.

As far as he knew, this picture was the only proof that he even HAD parents.

He wished he could remember them. He wished he had a better chance to know them.

He carefully closed the book and, rather than placing it on the bedside cabinet, slipped it under his pillow and rested his head on it as if in some vain hope that closer proximity to the photograph and his father's writing would spark some recognition in his mind.

As he closed his eyes, a single silent tear trickled down onto his pillow, and he prayed that he would sleep dreamlessly again.

* * *

><p>Corporal Messerschmitt looked round the corner.<p>

He saw the Dust Storm Alchemist leaning against the door, surreptitiously peering through the window at the patient beyond.

There was no way the Corporal would be able to get over there without being caught.

So he turned and started walking, thinking with all of his might.

This situation had become far more troublesome than he had anticipated.


	7. Chapter 6

_I'm running again. I'm always running now. Feels like it's never going to end. Like I'm never going to stop running. Ever._

_I'm running in darkness. I can't see anything. But someone's chasing me. I know who it is. I don't know why. I just know I have to get away from him. I have to get away as far away from him as I can. As quickly as possible._

"_What's the matter?" he asks, and I hear the sneer in his words. "Getting tired?"_

_Sharp pain stabs me in the leg and I fall. Perhaps I slipped on my own blood. I can't be sure. All I know is now I'm on the ground. In the dark. And he's coming closer. He's laughing. Cruelly._

_I see his sword in front of my face. It's glowing red._

"_You have to be the weakest and most pathetic creature I've ever seen in my whole life," he says._

_I don't dare look up at his face. I can't move. I can't fight back._

_He hits me with his sword and my arm shatters. The force knocks me onto my back. The splinters of metal and wires and gears fall around me like rain. They hit me in the face. It hurts. A lot._

_I'm looking up. I see a man standing in front of me. Looking down at me. His eyes are practically colourless. His hair is crimson and messy. He's frowning. He's angry. At me._

"_How could you have become such a failure?" he demands._

Aerrow catapulted upwards with a scream, his face and body drenched in sweat. He shook, clutched at his sheets and tried to pull them closer, and once he realised he was back in the hospital near Central Command, only then did he try to breathe easier.

He was safe.

He couldn't be hurt.

Not here, at least.

He looked up at the window. Somebody had closed the drapes while he had been sleeping, but it was obviously night-time now. It was dark, and the drapes were glowing white in the light of the waning moon.

He would have lay back down, but he knew that his pillow would be just as soaked as his forehead, and these sheets were uncomfortably warm and wet. So he swung his legs out of bed and set his feet down on the cold floor.

This wasn't going to be pleasant.

Aerrow stood up, wavering as he tried to avoid resting on his left leg, and staggered over to the window. He pulled the drapes aside, quickly found the catch and managed to get it open, and it wasn't long before the cold air of the night was washing around the room.

It was chilling, but he didn't mind. He needed something to distract him from that horrible dream.

Fighting the Dark Ace in his dreams was nothing new, and neither was losing to him. It was his most frequent nightmare besides the one where he fell off the Condor and nobody came to catch him, the one where everything and everyone around him was burning and there was no means of escaping or dousing the fire and the one where everyone and everything around him was trying to dress him in different clothes.

But this was new.

He had always managed to either defeat or escape the Dark Ace in this dream. He had never been caught, and definitely never been hurt before. And that other person there…

…it was Lightning Strike.

Why had Lightning Strike appeared in his dream? Because of the journal? And he'd made it sound like he loved Aerrow, so why did he call him a failure?

And why had he spoken with the voice of Major Blitz?

If Piper was here, she would be able to make sense of it. She would probably explain that since Aerrow didn't remember his father's voice, his mind was substituting the next best thing.

But what did _that_ mean?! He didn't think of the Dust Storm Alchemist as his father!

Did he?

He certainly had been taking a lot of responsibility in this situation. He'd made sure Aerrow was eating and sleeping, posted guards outside his room so that he felt safe, had been coming in and talking to him when he was feeling lonely or in need of comfort, somehow sensing when this was needed, finding him and talking him down off the roof…

So maybe he had been acting like a father would. At least a little.

But was it really enough for Aerrow to have mentally applied his voice to the face of his own father?

It wouldn't have been half as bizarre were it not for how well the two seemed to fit together.

A breeze blew into the room and ruffled Aerrow's long hair, and he wondered if he should find a shower. He was beginning to feel dirty again. Were it not for the lingering pain in his leg, he would have happily departed in search of a bathroom of some kind.

But as it was, he remained at the window, allowing the wind to dry the sweat on his face.

It did feel rather nice.

And it reminded him of home.

* * *

><p>The Major tapped a finger on his cup sending ripples through the coffee it contained.<p>

It was another cold night. Considering the time of year, it was only going to get colder for the next few months. He pulled his jacket tighter around his body and shifted closer to his window to get a better view.

Not a cloud in the sky, and it was a beautiful if chilling night. Light breezes were blowing across the city and rustled leaves in nearby trees. It was peaceful and quiet and just a little eerie. The kind of night that seems foreboding, like the calm before a tremendous storm.

And he'd lived long enough to see many, _many _tremendous storms.

His gaze wandered sideways, away from the moonlit night and onto his desk nearby, upon which the letter that had been written what felt like forever ago lay on top of a book about rocks next to a crude homemade anemometer. Would he ever get a chance to deliver it? He didn't know. And he certainly didn't know if he would ever pluck up the courage to do so.

What was written there… in that boy's current state of mind, it would probably drive him insane. Either that or he would just shut down completely and never say a single word ever again. After all, it wasn't exactly very gentle in its subject matter, and somebody of that mental and emotional state could easily misinterpret it.

But then again, it was likely Aerrow would never recover from this. Many people didn't after such a horrific event. In which case, he was probably never going to be able to read this letter.

So he might never know the true fate of his father.

The Major sipped from his coffee, wanting to consume it before it got cold, and he closed the window before his room could turn into a fridge (as anybody with any sense would).

He couldn't help but wonder how the boy was doing now. Considering when he'd gone to sleep, he was probably awake by now. If so, was he lonely? Was he missing his friends? Was he wondering where the former Fullmetal Alchemist or the Dust Storm Alchemist had gone to? Were the guards treating him well, if they were talking to him at all?

He couldn't help but wonder.

Blitz picked up the letter and read through it again, as he had many times before, He could probably recite the entire thing from memory if he tried.

He looked up at the window again. He would have closed the drapes, but he liked the view of the night sky. It reminded him of the home he hadn't seen in what felt like centuries, even though it had only been a little over a decade.

'I wonder if I'll ever see it again,' he pondered. 'Am I ever going to go home?'

He'd been in this place for so long, he couldn't even envision anything different.

'Damn you, Amestris,' he thought as he lay back on his bed with the coffee in one hand and the letter in the other, and stared up at the carefully scripted lettering. 'You've taken me over, you goddamn monster of a country.'

He lowered his hand and rested the letter on his chest, unable to escape the sensation of loneliness that crept over him.

"I really hope you'll be able to read this someday," he said to nobody.

* * *

><p>"Aerrow?"<p>

Ed made sure to close the door properly behind him.

"Aerrow?" he repeated. "Can you hear me?"

Aerrow didn't respond, but he was obviously awake. His eyes were wide and shadowed and staring at the open book.

"Aerrow, don't you think it's time you put that book down for a little while?" asked Ed. "You know you have to take a break sometime, and you've been reading for quite a while now-"

"I know," Aerrow interrupted, "but it's the best I have."

Ed was puzzled.

"Best you have at what?" he asked.

"I've never known my parents," Aerrow explained, "so reading this kinda makes me feel a little closer to them. Closer to my dad."

"But you'd have to leave your dad alone sooner or later," said Ed, "and do you even know how long you've been reading that thing?"

Aerrow didn't reply. He just turned a page of the book.

"Aerrow, you've been reading for two days straight!"

_That _got through to him.

Aerrow closed the book around his finger and rested it in his lap.

"Has it really been that long?" He asked the question without looking in Ed's direction.

"_Yes_," Ed said as harshly as he dared. "Did you really lose track of time because you were reading so much?"

"But-"

"No buts, Flyboy. I know you want to know more about your dad. Trust me, I understand it perfectly. But that isn't what you need to focus on right now. You need to focus on getting back on your feet!"

"But how can I?" Aerrow turned his head in Ed's direction, but still didn't look up at his face. "I can't even stand without support. How am I supposed to 'get back on my feet'?"

Ed pinched his brow, trying to think of a solution.

"I can help you walk," he said. "Maybe you could go up to the rooftop and get some fresh air."

"I-"

"It's for your own good. You know that."

Taking a deep breath, Aerrow placed the open book down and swung his legs out of the bed. Ed hooked an arm under his shoulder and pulled him to his feet.

"You okay with that?" he asked.

"Let's just go to the roof and get this over with," Aerrow said.

Ed obediently led him out of the room and together they walked down the hallway, the redhead struggling to keep pace with the blond and having to be dragged for part of the way. Ed tried to ignore this and fixed his gave dead ahead, knowing that looking at his friend at this close proximity would likely make him more uncomfortable than he already was.

And he _was _uncomfortable. It was obvious he still wasn't a big fan of people touching him, so Ed holding him like this had him on the edge of a freak-out, even if this was somebody he was more than familiar with and they weren't going to be like this for very long.

"Hold on for a little longer, okay?" Ed said as they reached the Roof Access door. "We don't have much further to go."

"Get me out," Aerrow gasped. "Just get me out!"

Ed pulled him up the stairs two steps at a time, wanting to get the journey over as quickly as he could. Once he reached the top, he threw the door open and released Aerrow, who seized the doorframe and leaned heavily against it to catch his breath.

"You alright?" asked Ed, despite the answer being extremely obvious.

Aerrow gulped and panted some more.

"Y-yeah," he gasped. "I just need to…"

He trailed off, needing to breathe.

Ed looked out at the rooftop.

"You know," he said, "this is where I won a fight with Alphonse for the first time ever. Managed to throw one of those sheets on him and distract him long enough to get a hit in. He called me out for cheating, but I didn't care. I'd finally beaten him. And this was only recently after I'd almost died in a swordfight I hadn't brought a sword to!"

His smile faded when he saw that Aerrow was still leaning against the frame, trying to remain calm.

"I'm sorry about manhandling you like that," Ed told him. "There wasn't really any other way for me to support you properly. I'll try not to do it again if I can avoid it."

"I know," said Aerrow. "I know."

He didn't shiver as another cold gust of wind blew across the area.

"And I know I've been spending a lot of time with that journal," he said, "but what do you expect?"

Ed nodded.

"I kinda wish my father had done something like that," he said. "Written a journal so I didn't go making half-baked assumptions about what he was actually like from what little I could remember."

"It's different for me though," said Aerrow. "Everybody knows about what happened to Lightning Strike. During the battle to end all battles against Cyclonia, he was on the verge of winning when his co-pilot betrayed him and struck him down. With his own sword, no less."

Ed wasn't too sure what to say to this.

"Ouch," he muttered.

"But I think," Aerrow continued, "the fact that his co-pilot was the Dark Ace explains a lot."

"You what?!"

"It's true. Just read it if you want to know more."

"Well, I already kinda knew some since your squad showed me-"

"They did?" Aerrow's voice was a strange mixture of sadness, disappointment and acceptance. "Did they make you bring the journal to me?"

"Yes, but-"

"Because they want me to come back?"

"Uh…"

"If they did, it didn't work. I'm not going back. I can't. Ever."

He turned away from the frame to face the rooftop.

"I want to," he said. "Part of me feels like it's telling me I have to. But I don't think I'll be able to face them knowing what's happened. If word gets out in Atmos, we'll never be treated as a proper squadron again. But without me, they might be viewed as easy pickings for Cyclonia and all their lackeys. I…"

His head fell in shame.

"…I feel trapped," he said sadly. "I know it would probably be for the best if I returned to them, but I just don't feel like I should."

Ed tried not to look at him for too long. To do so would just make him feel more uncomfortable.

"I know the feeling," he said. "I got it quite a lot when me and Al were looking for a way to get our bodies back. Speaking of which…"

He looked over at Aerrow's arm.

"…are you really comfy with that automail?" he asked. "Don't you think you'd do better with regular old flesh and blood?"

"It was my clumsiness and stupidity that cost me my arm," Aerrow said. "I don't see any reason why I would deserve to have it back."

There was no way he was going to be convinced otherwise any time soon.

"Are you hungry?" Ed asked.

Aerrow didn't reply.

"You must be," said Ed regardless. "You haven't eaten any of the food they're bringing you. And have you actually slept at all lately? Major Blitz isn't impressed, you know."

Aerrow could easily have said that he didn't give a damn what the Dust Storm Alchemist thought of him, but the fact of the matter was that he did. The man had been looking out for him so much over the past few days and the thought that he was letting him down was unnervingly disturbing.

Almost as if the man _was _his father.

"Had enough?" asked Ed. "I won't hold you on the way down; you can just lean on me. That would be better, right?"

Aerrow nodded.

Ed still wasn't sure what to make of him. He'd never had to deal with a situation like _this _before. His usual instinct whenever somebody he was close to had gone through something emotionally harrowing was to give them some sort of hug, as he had with Winry during her confrontations with Scar. But if he tried to hug Aerrow right now, he'd probably get slaughtered for it. He knew how tough the boy was, which made seeing him in such a state even worse.

He wanted to see him smile again. He wanted to know that he was alright.

Even though he wasn't.

"Come on then," he said, "let's get you back inside before it gets cold."

* * *

><p>Major Blitz wasn't panicking.<p>

In fact, he was making a very specific point of not panicking.

He knew that Edward Elric was still in the city, and that he was definitely still Aerrow's friend, but what he didn't know was where either of them had gone to. He had been trying to find something more appetising than hospital food for his… charge, and had returned to find the journal face down and open on the empty bed. No sign of Aerrow anywhere.

But he wasn't panicking. He was making sure of that. He was just waiting in the corridor for one or both of them to return.

"Hey."

Oh, thank heavens.

He looked up and saw Ed walking towards him, carrying the prone figure of Aerrow in his arms. The redhead wasn't moving, but the blond didn't appear to be worried.

"Would you believe he fell asleep at the bottom of the stairs?" he asked. "I took him up to the roof to get some fresh air and when we came back down, he just went out like a light. Had to catch him before he hit the floor. Stupid idiot's gone and exhausted himself with that goddamn book."

Blitz couldn't avoid smiling to himself. He hadn't had anything to worry about after all. He stepped aside and opened the door, and watched as the ex-alchemist laid the Sky Knight down on his bed. He placed the book on the bedside table and pulled the covers over his thin body.

"You dumbass," he chastised. "Don't ask me why I like you so much."

"He does seem to have a certain charisma about him," said Major Blitz from the doorway. "And after what happened, the fact that he's staying alive is admirable in a way."

Ed straightened up.

"Why are you caring for him so much?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" asked the Major.

"I mean," Ed said as he walked out of the room, "that usually he would be cared for primarily by the doctors and nurses, or maybe one doctor in particular, but you're taking precedence over this whole situation. I can't help but be curious about that. Care to explain it?"

The Major took a deep breath. He knew he was going to have to pick his words carefully.

"I found a teenage boy dying in a backstreet alleyway," he said, "having experienced one of the most horrific deeds that can be done against any human being. His blood was all over my car's backseat and my uniform. He would have died if I'd left him one minute longer. Knowing that, how exactly do you expect me to treat him?"

"Yeah, but-" Ed also found himself searching for the appropriate phrasing. "I-it's kinda weird, okay? And you're _still _giving me the worst déjà vu I've ever felt in my whole life! Seriously, WHERE have I seen you before?!"

"Will you keep your voice down?" It wasn't quite a command, but it had the same tone as one. "You're going to wake him up!"

Falling silent, both males quickly glanced through the window in the door and saw that Aerrow was still fast asleep. He'd barely moved at all.

"You and I never met one another in person until several days ago," Major Blitz insisted. "I can't say I've never heard of you, Edward Elric, but we've not met face to face before then. I don't even know how many times I'm going to have to tell you that before you believe me."

Ed clenched his fists in anger.

"I'm going to find out who you are, Dust Storm Alchemist," he said solidly, "and when I do, I'm going to make sure everybody in both worlds knows about you. Mark. My. _Words_."

He turned and strode away.

"Where are you even going to look?" Major Blitz called. "Do you even know where to start?"

"Right now, I'm going to pick up Aerrow's coat from the laundry!" Ed replied. "The sooner I get that back to him, the better! And then I'm going to expose you for what you are!"

With that, he was gone.

Major Blitz sighed in annoyance. What was that boy's problem? Couldn't he see that what Blitz was doing was in the best of intentions?

And even if he did live up to his promise and search for information about him, he wouldn't be able to find anything substantial. There weren't any details on Wilhelm Blitz or his life in Amestris that anybody would have written down. In the one place they _were _written down, they had been destroyed in a fire, along with the rest of the first branch of Central Library.

He looked through the window again and, confident that the patient was now thoroughly asleep, he opened the door and stepped in.

Immediately he was hit by the change in temperature. How long had the window been open for? No wonder the boy had been unable to sleep! He hurried over to it and pulled it closed, shutting the catch as tightly and as quietly as possible. It was amazing that there wasn't ice on the floor or frost on the bedsheets.

Once he was sure that no more cold wind could penetrate the window, he looked back at the sleeping boy.

It was amazing how content he looked, lying on his side with his hair over his face. If he had been several years younger Major Blitz would have half expected him to start sucking his thumb.

He shivered violently in his sleep, and the Major noticed that the blankets seemed to be hanging off them. He gently pulled them up to cover the boy's shoulder and Aerrow immediately settled down into a far more peaceful slumber, comforted by the added warmth.

It really was very adorable.

Major Blitz brushed some of the hair away from his face, as it was sure to get caught in his nose or mouth otherwise. It was almost alarming how long it had grown – even loose, it would probably go at least to his shoulders – and the Major couldn't quite understand how he'd allow it to get like that. Surely, given the boy's profession, it would make sense to have it several inches shorter.

Perhaps spiked up out of the way as well. That usually worked.

'I wish I could talk to you properly,' Blitz said inside his mind. 'I wish I could tell you everything that's going on. I wish this had never happened to you, that I could just have found you and told you who I am. I wish things could have been different. And I wish I didn't have to make these wishes while watching you sleep rather than being able to act on them.'

The Major looked around. Nobody was watching, and Aerrow was still as fast asleep as he had been several minutes ago.

Very carefully, trying his utmost not to disturb the boy, Blitz leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.

He wouldn't feel it. He was too busy sleeping.

But Blitz hoped he would at least know that he was protected.

* * *

><p>Aerrow opened his eyes in shock.<p>

The Dust Storm Alchemist…

…had _kissed _him.

Admittedly it had only been on the head, but it was still a kiss!

He'd been awakened by a shout from Ed, but didn't want to disturb either him or Major Blitz by showing that he was still awake, and…

…and there was a folded piece of paper lying on the floor.

From its position and the fact that it hadn't been there before Blitz's visit, it had fallen out of the soldier's pocket. Although his body felt like it weighed a tonne, Aerrow reached down and picked it up.

Through exhaustion, the lettering was bleary and unfocused.

But Aerrow could make out the vague shape of his name.

He slipped it under his pillow and settled down again. He could read it later.

* * *

><p>When he woke up again, the sun was hanging low in the sky.<p>

Either he'd slept through an entire day and woken up at dusk, or it was dawn and that day was just beginning.

He felt refreshed though, and rolled over onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

That's when he heard the crinkling of paper.

He remembered what had transpired before he went to sleep for good and pulled the folded paper out from under his pillow.

Yes, that was definitely his name.

Written in Atmosian script.

_Huh?_

Now it had him gripped. He _had _to know what it was.

He unfolded it and started to read.

* * *

><p>The Major felt in his pockets.<p>

"Oh no…" he muttered.

The letter was gone.

He glanced at the clock nearby. It was half past nine in the morning.

Where could he have dropped it? On the way to the hospital? On the way back? In the hospital? In Aerrow's room?

He _had _to get it back.

Who the hell knew what could happen if Aerrow read it?!


	8. Chapter 7

Aerrow stared at the piece of paper he held.

He must have read over it a thousand times by now, and his addled mind was still trying to make sense of it.

How did this letter get here? Who had picked it up?

And more importantly, how had the Dust Storm Alchemist gotten hold of it?

Someone knocked on the door, but he didn't try to hide the letter as a familiar figure entered his room.

"Oh, you found it," said Major Blitz - definitely concerned, but hardly relieved. "I was wondering where that went. I meant to-"

"How the hell did you get hold of this?" Aerrow demanded.

The soldier was hesitant to reply, and for good reason. He was probably quaking in his boots.

"I found it," he said. "If you could just let me-"

"Don't. _Lie_. To me."

For the first time since they'd met, Aerrow looked deliberately in the Major's direction, though still keeping his eyes off his face and fixed firmly on the floor.

"How did you get this?" he asked, the low volume of his voice doing nothing to mask his fury. "Do you know what happened to my father?"

He swung his legs out of the bed and got up, still wavering slightly as he tried not to stand on his left leg.

"Did you kill my father?" he asked, stepping closer.

"It's not like that," the Dust Storm Alchemist said desperately. "It's-"

Quicker than should have been possible for somebody of his physique, Aerrow snatched the major's sidearm out of his belt and aimed it at his face, still keeping his head bowed.

"Did you kill my father?" he repeated, his voice terrifyingly calm.

Major Blitz didn't reply.

He opened the door and ran out of the room, and Aerrow didn't take long to follow. He kept the gun pointed at the soldier's retreating form as he once again turned in the direction of the roof. With his mind in a blaze of fury, he barely even noticed how his leg was hurting anymore, and his gaze was focused for the first time in days as he rounded the corner and saw the Major once again taking the path to the roof.

"What the-" An exclamation came from behind the Sky Knight as he walked down the hallway, still holding the gun. "Aerrow, what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

He turned and aimed the weapon in the face of the blond who was chasing him.

"Don't try to stop me, Edward," he said, noting that the first face he'd seen in days was that of his 'friend' gaping in fear and shock.

"Aerrow," said Ed, hands raised in surrender, "you're confused, just try to calm down-"

"_No_," Aerrow said flatly. "That man knows something about what happened to my father, and I know you've been friendly with him. Stay away from me. I'm going to get answers out of him and if you try to follow me, I'll put a bullet right between your eyes. Got it?"

Ed didn't move in the slightest.

Satisfied, Aerrow turned and continued in the direction Major Blitz had taken.

* * *

><p>Ed watched the Sky Knight's retreating form, feeling about as helpless as it's possible for a person to get.<p>

Dammit! What the hell did he think he was doing?! Normally the ex-alchemist would be overjoyed to see his friend up and about, never mind so rigidly confident, but this was the last thing he wanted to see.

This _wasn't_ Aerrow.

How had he even come to that conclusion? When did-

The journal.

He'd been reading it obsessively these past few days. Could that have been it? Had something in the journal convinced him to chase down the Dust Storm Alchemist?

He ran as fast as he could to his friend's room and once he was in there, he snatched up the badgered book and flicked through it, trying desperately to find some kind of clue.

And then he reached the end, and saw the photograph that was taped there.

Looking at the faces of the people depicted, lightbulbs flashed inside his mind and pieces of a puzzle slid neatly into place.

"Oh. My. God," he muttered as he stared at the picture in shock. "I am an _IDIOT!_"

He threw it down and ran back out of the room.

* * *

><p>Major Blitz caught himself on the railing and stared down at the pavement far below, trying to catch what little breath he could garner.<p>

He never had quite adjusted to this thick city air.

So now the boy he had rescued, protected and tried his utmost to help recover was hunting him down with his own sidearm, intent on killing him if he didn't get information about his father. The Major knew that look he'd had in his eyes. There would be no stopping him.

If only he hadn't found that damned letter...

"You wanna jump?"

The Dust Storm Alchemist didn't look round.

"Because if you do," Aerrow said solidly, "you're taking me with you."

"You don't want to do that," Major Blitz said. "You still have your whole life ahead of you-"

"Don't give me that bullshit," Aerrow snapped. "All I want is information about my father. I know you know about him. How else would you have got this letter?"

He took a step closer.

"I'll ask you one more time," he said. "Did. You. Kill. My. Father?"

Major Blitz didn't reply.

"You did, didn't you?" asked Aerrow. "You killed him!"

"Yes," said the Major. "Yes, okay? I did it. I killed your father. And if you want to kill me, I won't stop you."

Aerrow's steel fingers curled into a fist.

"You..." he muttered. "...you _bastard_... Face me."

The Major didn't move.

"Face me!" Aerrow commanded. "Now! I want to see the look on your face when you die, you murderer!"

Still the soldier remained still.

"Fine," said Aerrow, and he took careful aim.

His finger curled inward, tightening on the trigger and-

"GET A GRIP, FLYBOY!"

Aerrow froze, finger still resting on the gun's trigger as his first Amestrian friend walked into view.

"Ed," he said. "This man is a murderer. He's just admitted that he killed my father!"

"Actually, Aerrow," said Ed, standing next to the state alchemist, "it's quite a bit more complex than that."

He glared at the soldier.

Slowly, still hesitant, the Dust Storm Alchemist turned to look at the Sky Knight.

And for the first time since they'd met, Aerrow saw his face.

His deep red hair.

His eyes of unidentifiable colour.

His lips that curled into a gentle smile.

"He's right, you know," he said. "It is pretty damn complicated."

Aerrow almost dropped the gun in shock. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened in horror, and he started shivering again.

"You..." he gasped. "_You're_..."

"Yes," said Lightning Strike. "I am."

He stepped closer, and when Aerrow made as if to jump back in fright, he raised his hands, indicating that he meant no harm.

"It's alright," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you, I would _never_ hurt you, Aerrow."

He took hold of the gun.

"What I said the other night was completely true," he said as he peeled the teen's fingers away from the firearm. "I honestly had no idea what I was supposed to do after I lost you. The only thing that kept me going was the hope that someday, somehow, I would be able to see you again. To get you back. To tell you how..."

He took the gun away from Aerrow's hand and replaced it in his holster, and took the boy's face in both hands so he couldn't look away.

"...how I never meant to leave you," he continued. "How I had expected go straight back home to you after that battle and spend the rest of my life with you. How I wanted to teach you how to ride a skimmer and fight and fly the Condor. I never wanted to leave you and your mother on your own."

He wiped a tear away from Aerrow's eye with his thumb.

"I've been told about what you've accomplished," he said. "How you turned yourself into a Sky Knight and formed your own squadron. How you've saved the Atmos over and over again, taught yourself how to fight and fly and do insane stunts and even found yourself a trustworthy co-pilot."

His smile grew wider.

"And I'm amazed that you had the strength to walk all the way up here by yourself," he said. "Don't you even think for a minute that you're useless or nobody cares about you or that you should kill yourself because I am so, _so_ proud of you. About as proud as it's possible for a father to be."

By now there were tears in his eyes as well, and Aerrow still hadn't stopped gaping.

"You're... you're my dad," he said weakly.

"That's right," said the Major. "Did you miss me?"

"N-no," said Aerrow. "I-I don't remember you. I was four years old when you left but I don't remember you at all. I'm sorry. Th-that photo in the back of your journal... there was nothing familiar about it. I don't remember you, I'm sorry!"

"It's alright," Lightning Strike said, and he pulled his son into a tight hug. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, I promise. You don't have anything to apologise for. It's alright. It's okay."

Slowly, Aerrow raised his arms to return the embrace, and found himself tightening his arms around his father's body.

His _father_.

_He had a __**father**_.

"Dad..." he choked.

He couldn't hold back anymore. He started sobbing, tears pouring down his face in heavier and heavier streams, until after a few minutes he was practically screaming, his cries falling out into the cold air of the sunset.

He felt the gentle hand of the Major stroking his hair and shushing him. It was calming. Felt like something he had missed, something he had desperately needed.

_"Carry on, my wayward son_

_There'll be peace when you are done_

_Lay your weary head to rest_

_Don't you cry no more..."_

Aerrow tried to catch his breath.

"_Once I rose above the noise and confusion_

_Just to get a glimpse beyond disillusion_

_I was soaring ever higher_

_But I flew too high..."_

So this was where this lullaby had come from. It had been his father's.

No wonder it brought him so much comfort.

_"Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man_

_Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man_

_I hear the voices when I'm dreaming_

_I can hear them say..."_

Aerrow tried to join in.

_"Carry on, my wayward son_

_There'll be peace when you are done_

_Lay your weary head to rest_

_Don't you..."_

He only got so far before he was sobbing too hard to continue.

"It's okay," said the Major once he was done singing. "It's okay to cry. I've got you. And I promise I am never going to leave you again. Never."

Aerrow took a deep breath and tried to stop crying.

"Let's get you back inside," said Lightning Strike. "It's cold out here. I don't want you getting sick."

He looked over at the blond who had observed all of this in silence.

"Thank you," he said, and then he started ushering his son to the door.

Ed heaved a heavy sigh.

"Damn," he swore. "This whole week has just been a mess."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Dad? I-I can call you Dad, right?"<p>

"Of course. I'd be a little disappointed if you didn't."

Aerrow leaned into the large man's muscular body, hoping it would help him walk, but at the same time trying not to inconvenience him.

"How did..." he said hesitantly. "How did you survive the battle? I heard that the Dark Ace-"

"He's actually adopted that name?" asked Lightning Strike, and sounded like he could burst out laughing. "Jubilee suggested that as a joke. Then again, he never did seem all that clever."

Aerrow almost smiled as well. It was strangely refreshing to hear somebody else mocking his sworn nemesis.

When they reached his room, his father opened the door and helped him to the bed.

"It was years ago, so it's a bit fuzzy now," said Lightning Strike after Aerrow had sat down. "I remember... I was falling to the Wastelands. I'd just been cut down, my glider was annihilated. I still have a burn scar on my back. I was falling and... and then I saw this light, this blinding white glow rushing up towards me, I think I saw an eye, this big, grey..."

"The Eye of Truth," Aerrow muttered.

"If that's what it's called," Lightning Strike said. "And then the next thing I knew, I was in... it looked like a sewer, and there was this huge round... _person_ saying he was going to eat me. I barely even stopped to think, I just kicked him in the face and ran for it, and then a whole load of monsters started dropping down out of the ceiling trying to kill me. I'm still not sure how I made it out of there alive. I'm just glad I did."

He rubbed his head, which was probably aching rather a lot by now.

"Didn't take me long to figure out I wasn't in Atmos anymore," he continued as he opened the journal at the back. "The air was thick, everything felt heavy and all I had were the clothes I was wearing and this photo."

He held up the picture for Aerrow to see, and the Sky Knight reached up and gently touched it with his steel fingers.

"That was taken on your fourth birthday," explained his father. "Your hair had only turned red a couple of years before. You were a little blond before then, and you were so adorable."

He lowered the journal.

"The moment I worked out where I was, I started making plans to get home," he said. "I found out about this alchemy stuff, figured it could come in handy and started teaching myself how to do it. Took ages to get it all sorted; there's so much existential stuff, it's ridiculous. I looked into earth and air on the side while researching human transmutation and everything relating to it, and before I knew it ten years had passed and I was getting rather good. I'd travelled a lot, going around and learning about Amestris, and I know you'll probably hate me when I say that the only way I survived was by stealing."

"Stealing?!"

"I didn't have any money and couldn't find anywhere that might hire me, so it was the only means I had of getting food and money. And one day I reached this village where I heard about some miracle doctor who could heal anybody, and figured he might have some source of power besides his own alchemy, so... so I broke into his house while he was out one day and stole a small red crystal that looked like a rod."

"A Philosopher's Stone?"

"I guess so. And with that stone, I started... transmuting people. I designed a transmutation circle and started trying to send people into Atmos, if only to know if it was possible. It wasn't until I transmuted a State Alchemist that I realised I had got as selfish as the Cyclonians, and I decided to quit."

"Wait a minute," said the voice of Ed, who it turned out had been listening at the door. "That was you? _You_ sent me to Atmos?!"

Lightning Strike nodded.

"Yeah, that was me," he said. "I didn't expect you to return. I thought maybe I could enlist with the State, make a bit of cash, get a roof over my head... and then I saw you come back. I'll admit I stalked you a bit, and I heard you talking about Atmos. I realised my transmutation had worked. And I thought..."

He looked up at Aerrow, who was still patiently listening.

"If I'd managed to send a person to Atmos, what if I could bring someone to Amestris?"

"So you were the one who brought my squad and I here!" Aerrow exclaimed in shock.

"Guilty as charged," said Lightning Strike. "I wanted to bring my squadmates here, but it didn't seem to work, so I just thought 'fuck it' and went to Central to enlist."

He smiled.

"That's where I saw you, Aerrow," he said. "In Central Command, just after I'd got my licence. I watched the whole thing when Cyclonia came in out of nowhere and I've been sticking around Central ever since."

"You've been here this whole time," Aerrow muttered.

Lightning Strike nodded solemnly.

"I never ever wanted to abandon you," he said.

"I'm sorry," said Aerrow, "but even with all that, I still don't remember you. The first thing I remember is making friends with Finn, and I was four years old by then."

"Finn?" Lightning Strike raised an eyebrow and smiled. "You know, you still haven't told me anything about your squadron. So there's a Finn now, is there?"

"And Piper," said Ed. "And there's Junko, who's a Wallop. And Stork, who's a Merb. And Aerrow's co-pilot's called Radarr, but I don't even know what he is. I don't think anyone does."

"You put together your own squadron," Lightning Strike said, mostly to himself, and ruffled his son's hair. "You really are just like me. Don't get upset. I'm sure you'll get your memories back someday."

Aerrow took the hand from his head and held it, and looked into his father's eyes. In the fading light of the sun, they shined brownish-green.

"Are you tired?" asked the man.

Aerrow nodded slowly.

"We'll leave you to get some rest," said Lightning Strike as he got up. "Don't worry, I'll be right outside if you need me."

The young Sky Knight watched him leave, taking Ed with him, but not until the blond had given Aerrow a warming smile.

Alone once again, he lay down on the bed and pulled the covers up over his shoulders.

And as he closed his eyes, for perhaps the first time in a whole week, he smiled.

* * *

><p>"So you're the boy I sent to Atmos," Lightning Strike said after he closed the door.<p>

"Looks like it," said Ed. "It's weird; I feel like I should be angry at you, but I'm really not."

"Then maybe you could explain to me why my son has an automail arm?"

Ed laughed nervously, while the soldier glared at him angrily.

"Funny story..." the ex-alchemist started.

* * *

><p>The room was lit by sunlight when Aerrow woke up. It was warm. He felt safe.<p>

He sat up and looked out the window.

It was a new day.

When he looked round, there was a walking cane leaning against his bedside cabinet with a note taped to it. He took it off and read it:

_Easier than a crutch_

_Ed_

He smiled again. His friends were so thoughtful.

Using the cane for support, which was far easier than just trying not to step on his left leg, he hobbled to the door and stepped out of the room.

He found Ed asleep in a nearby chair, slumped back and snoring with his mouth wide open, and the Dust Storm Alchemist looking far more peaceful in the chair next to him. The chair's arm had a familiar red coat, now clean and fresh, draped over one arm.

He prodded the blond's shoulder.

"Ed," he whispered.

Ed awoke as the two halves of his snores collided, and looked up blearily at the Sky Knight.

"Hey," he said. "So you found it."

"Yeah, thanks," said Aerrow, looking down at the cane. "Though I thought I had at least another fifty years before I needed one of these."

"Well, that's part of why life sucks so much," Ed said, and he stood up and stretched. "You never know what it's gonna throw at you, so-"

"I've come to a decision," said Aerrow, and picked up the coat.

Ed raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

"Really?" he said. "And what decision is that?"

Aerrow gulped.

"I'm going home," he said. "I'm going back to Atmos. Back to my squad."

Ed spent several seconds thinking this over.

"Are you sure you're ready?" he asked.

"I'll never know if I don't try," he said with a shrug. "I've decided I want to see my squad again. It would be unfair and selfish to just avoid them, right?"

Slowly, Ed nodded.

"I would say not to, but I don't exactly have the right," he said. "You want some help getting to the Breach?"

"Thanks," said Aerrow, and then he looked to his father. "Should I..."

"Let him sleep," said Ed. "You've probably worn him out. I'll let him know where you went after you've gone home."

They started walking down the hallway, with Ed helping Aerrow keep his balance on the cane.

"I can probably get this fixed once I get back to the Condor," Aerrow said as he hobbled. "Piper's still got that Nil crystal, but I'm not sure how much charge it has left."

"Probably enough to heal your leg, at least," said Ed, "which should give you time to focus on other things."

"Yeah," Aerrow said with a nod, "like letting people know where I've been for the past week and building up the muscle I've lost and-"

"Studying?"

Aerrow looked up in surprise.

"You mean for alchemy?" he asked. "I kinda thought I couldn't do that anymore. Not since I almost killed myself trying to seal the universe."

"There's only one way to tell," Ed stated, "and that's if you give it some practise. Of course, you'll probably need somebody to steer you in the right direction. A tutor of sorts. Someone who knows plenty about alchemy and is willing to share it."

He eyed Aerrow with a sly smile.

"Are you... are you offering?" asked the Sky Knight.

Ed shrugged.

"Do you want me to be?" he asked.

Aerrow didn't know how to reply.

"It would take a while," Ed said. "Luckily you already seem to know plenty, so it won't take as long as it could. Al and I already knew quite a lot about alchemy when we met our teacher and it took us around six months to properly become ready for human transmutation. Considering your strength and intelligence, I'd say around... five months, give or take a week, provided you held up. And I'd need to stay with you during that time, just so you know. I can't keep flitting back and forth between worlds."

"So you actually want to come back onto the Condor, is that it?"

"Provided you don't make me sleep in the storage closet again."

Aerrow laughed a little.

"That must have been a bit uncomfortable, right?" he asked.

Ed stared at him.

"What?" he asked.

"It's nothing," he said. "Just that it feels like forever since I saw you smiling. I've missed it."

Aerrow smiled again.

"To tell the truth," he said, "I have too."

The rest of the journey to the Breach was walked in silence, with Ed still helping Aerrow when he had trouble. It was still rather early in the morning, so there weren't too many people out and about, but there were enough for them to gather more than a few stares as they found their way to Central Command and did their best to ignore all of the unwanted attention.

Once they finally reached the crack between their worlds, Aerrow froze.

"What's the matter?" asked Ed. "Don't you want to go home anymore?"

"I... I'm not sure," said Aerrow. "I mean, yes. Yes of course, I want to go home, but... what if they don't accept me? What if I'm not able to face them or-"

"Listen up, Flyboy," said Ed. "I'm about to give you some words I really needed to hear once, when I was in a similar situation to yours right now."

Aerrow forced himself to look into those burning golden eyes.

"I can't tell you what you're supposed to do," said the ex-alchemist. "You have to figure that out for yourself. Stand up and walk. Keep moving forward. You've got two good legs, so use them. You're strong enough - I _know_ you're strong enough - to make your own path."

He turned and started to walk away.

"I'll give you two days to decide," he said. "Then I'll come back for your answer. And don't know about you, but I can't wait to see you standing on your own two feet."

Aerrow watched as he walked away, but it wasn't long before he looked back to the Breach in all its throbbing glory.

It would probably be colder on the other side, considering the lower gravity and thinner air. With that in mind, he donned his coat and pulled it tight around his thin body.

He took a deep breath and stepped in.

The lighter, cleaner, fresher air was like a rush of new life right in his face and he revelled in its chill. He could have stood there for hours just taking breath after deep breath of that cold, thin air, but he knew he had something far more important to take care of.

He walked out into the streets and it didn't take him long to reach Atmosia's main square, with that tall tree he'd come to recognise so well. He still remembered how he had raced his team to it on the day they had failed to enlist as a proper squadron.

Wow, that seemed like forever ago now.

He was planning to walk over to it, maybe sit under it for a while before trying to find his squad, before he saw them.

His whole team.

Finn, Piper, Junko, Stork and Radarr were walking across the square, presumably heading for the Condor that was parked atop a hill some distance away. He heard Finn say something: he was too far away to hear what it was, but apparently it was rather humorous as the rest of the group burst out laughing.

Aerrow wanted to call to them. He wanted to scream and shout and make himself heard so that they would come over to him, but at the same time, he didn't want to attract too much attention. Who knew what kind of chaos he could unintentionally cause?

But just as he was about to turn and return to the Breach, he saw Piper look round.

And she caught sight of him and froze.

Aerrow couldn't imagine how ridiculous he looked. Standing in the middle of the square, still wearing nothing but a coat and hospital pyjamas and leaning on a cane like he was an old man. And still the surprise on her face gave him hope.

"Aerrow?" he heard her say.

At the sound of her voice, the rest of the group stopped and looked round, and they all bore the same expression of shock. Aerrow heard Finn mutter a quiet curse, and Junko hid his gape behind his mouth.

Their leader wasn't sure whether or not he was supposed to move.

Piper took a small step towards him, moving slowly. It was clear she didn't want to frighten him.

As he too moved a little closer, Aerrow felt heat rising to his face again. A lump in his throat was growing more and more painful with every passing second, and his vision blurred as his eyes filled with water.

She was looking right at him.

And he could see in her eyes. She didn't want to turn him away or kick him out.

_She was relieved_.

Unable to bear the separation for one more second, Aerrow tossed the cane aside and stumbled forward, and Piper ran and caught him in a tight, warming hug.

He couldn't believe his stupidity for avoiding his friends.

Aerrow swore, at that moment, that he would never abandon them again.


	9. Epilogue

Ed heaved a heavy sigh as he sat down, rousing the Dust Storm Alchemist from his slumber.

Strange. Somehow it was impossible to think of him as anything else.

"So he's gone home then?" asked the soldier.

"Yep," said Ed, and he sat back resting his head on his hands. "Back home to Atmos. You wanna go join him?"

A thoughtful expression crossed Major Blitz's face.

"I want to," he said, "but I haven't even seen Atmos in nearly twelve years now. If I just go waltzing back in there like nothing happened, do you have any idea how much of a stink that would cause?"

Ed nodded. If this man really had been as famous as he could assume, then he would be in no end of trouble if he just turned up out of the blue and was forced to explain where he had been for the past decade.

"You seem to be taking the fact that I came here from Atmos over eleven years ago rather well," he commented.

"Truth be told," said Ed, "I'm more surprised that a full-grown alien would be able to master alchemy in only eleven years, let alone get good enough to enter the military. Especially if you're self-taught. Then again, that's a longer amount of time than Al and I had to get to the point of attempting human transmutation."

Major Blitz stared at him in alarm.

"Long story," he quickly added. "Thing is though, me and Al at least managed to find ourselves a teacher for the most important stuff. How exactly did you come to be so knowledgeable that you would be able to transmute across universal boundaries?"

Again, the Dust Storm Alchemist looked deep in thought.

"And another thing," Ed said, "of all the titles you could have been given, how did you get 'Dust Storm'?"

"The title," Major Blitz said slowly, "is probably because when I went in for my exams, I'd gotten pretty damn good at air manipulation but I was still having a bit of trouble with the whole earth thing and I couldn't move much more than a few pebbles at a time. So I may or may not have improvised a small dust storm."

"'May or may not have'?" Ed sniggered.

"Alright, I did!" the soldier admitted. "And I... may or may not have accidentally and temporarily blinded some of the examiners."

Ed could barely contain his laughter.

"That's almost as reckless as what I did!" he choked out as he tried to catch his breath.

"Why?" asked Major Blitz. "What did you do?"

"Threatened the Fuhrer with a spear."

He laughed again at the expression of pure horror on the Dust Storm Alchemist's face.

"You didn't," he muttered.

"Oh, I did," Ed said proudly. "I didn't regret it then and I still don't regret it now. How about you? Did you have fun blinding your examiners?"

"Unlike you," Major Blitz said sternly, "I was far more interested in finding a stable means of income than I was in trying to make myself look unnecessarily violent. I've heard stories about the Fullmetal Alchemist and how strong and selfless he's supposed to be, but in the flesh you're a little bit…"

"Awesome?"

"Obnoxious."

Ed scowled in his direction.

"Now I see where Aerrow gets his attitude from," he commented.

When he looked again, he saw that the Dust Storm Alchemist had gone back to being deep in thought.

"Hey," he said. "You doing alright?"

The alchemist slowly turned to look at him again, and this time his eyes looked greyish-green.

"You asked how I managed to master alchemy to the point of transmuting across universes," he stated. "Who taught you and your brother how to draw your human transmutation circles?"

"Huh? No-one," Ed replied. "I mean, we never asked Teacher to show us how to do it, and even if we had I doubt she would've told us. Thinking back, a lot of it was probably improvised, but it definitely followed a strict structure. And we were so goddamn desperate to see our mother again that…"

He trailed off.

The Dust Storm Alchemist didn't have to speak for him to understand what he was saying.

"Oh," he said, "I see."

"That's my answer to that question of yours," said Major Blitz. "I wouldn't exactly call myself an expert on the subject, but if it meant getting home and seeing my family again, I would have pulled the sun out of the sky, woven its beams into a three-piece and steamed the oceans dry by walking through them. I would have done _anything_ just to see my wife and child one last time."

He looked away, fixing his frown on the floor.

"You got your child back," Ed pointed out. "And he seems pretty happy to have you back too."

Major Blitz smiled.

"Yes," he said, his voice strangely faint. "After all this time. I have my child… I have my son back."

"But I think right now would be a good time to give him a bit of space," said Ed. "I can't imagine how incredible it must be, finding your child again after so long, but he found a family in his squadron and he's refused to see them ever since that night. I'm not entirely sure if he needs his father fawning over him right now."

The Major wiped away a tear, apparently of joy.

"You're right," he admitted. "I'll give him some time to get reacquainted. And then I'll see if his friends are actually any good for him or if they're going to be a bad influence."

Ed didn't appreciate the way he was being glared at in that last sentence.

He could only pray this wasn't going to be like Hughes all over again.

* * *

><p>It didn't take as long for the light to fade as she had expected. Certainly not as long as it had taken last time.<p>

"Still not completed," she muttered in annoyance as she brought the globule over to herself. "Oh well. At least it doesn't appear to have very far to go now."

There was a knock at the door, and she turned back to her machine and concealed her 'project' within her cloak.

"Enter," she commanded.

She heard the door slide open and footsteps approached. Even without turning to face him, she could tell who it was.

"You summoned me, Master," said the Dark Ace, and he took a knee out of respect.

"Indeed," said Master Cyclonis, and she turned to stare down at her right-hand man as he straightened up. "Tell me, what exactly where the orders that I gave you for your covert mission last week?"

He was clearly trying his hardest not to appear confused.

"To eliminate Aerrow of the Storm Hawks," the Master said for him, "and ensure that he is in no way able to interfere with any of our future plans."

"I… I believe that was the order you gave me, Master," said the Dark Ace, who clearly understood the trouble he was in.

"They were," Cyclonis confirmed. "So can you please explain to me why it is that certain persons have informed me that Aerrow has returned safely to his squadron, apparently unscathed save for a wounded leg?"

The Dark Ace remained silent.

"It's such a shame, Dark Ace," said Cyclonis calmly. "I've almost come to expect these kinds of failures from you. Since you have proven a loyal and trustworthy subordinate, however, I am prepared to forgive you for this little disappointment."

The man in question nodded.

"It is appreciated, master," he said.

"My only regret," Cyclonis continued, "is that in this case, I did expect you to leave him alive. After all, you seem as though you would prefer to finish him personally. Up close."

He nodded again. This was also true.

"So I had to, shall we say, take steps to ensure that he would still remain out of the way, but not so much that you could not finish him at some later date."

Once again, the Dark Ace was confused.

"Steps, Master?" he asked.

"I will only say this," said Master Cyclonis. "Though Aerrow's body may inevitably recover, especially now that he and his squadron have the power of alchemy on their side, his mind is likely to remain broken for the rest of his life. You may find little purpose in killing him at this moment, as chances are that he is already dead on the inside."

The calmness in her smile would have chilled the Dark Ace to the core, had he not already possessed a heart of ice.

"And don't bother trying to track down those I hired," she said, turning back to her machine. "They have already received a more useful, more permanent reassignment. One which is sure to benefit our empire in days to come."

She looked down fondly at the globule she held hidden.

"You are dismissed, Dark Ace," she said. "You may return to your temporary station."

The Dark Ace saluted.

"Master," he said, and then he turned on his heels and walked out of the room.

The Master held up the crystal before her eyes once he was gone. Its glow was faint, barely noticeable, but still definitely there.

And surely it wouldn't be long before it only grew that much brighter.

* * *

><p>The Dark Ace's fists were clenched as he strode through the hallways, glaring sideways at any who dared so much as glance in his direction.<p>

_So what now, genius?_

Oh, great. He had surfaced again.

'What do you mean, what now?' he mentally demanded. 'This is your fault, you brat.'

_My fault? How is this my fault? Surely it's your fault for being such a goddamn warmonger!_

'It's your fault,' he thought, 'because you're the one who convinced me that it would be more satisfying to finish him in battle. You're the one who convinced me to shift my aim to his leg. You only wanted him incapacitated, and now look where that's led us!'

There was silence in the wake of this mental retort.

'When are you going to learn your place?' the Dark Ace asked.

_My place?! In case you forgot, Dark, this IS my place! It's my head you've got me stuck inside! You're the one who won't let me out! If anything, you're the one who needs to learn his place!_

'My place,' the Dark Ace thought calmly, 'is in the servitude of Master Cyclonis. That is my purpose.'

_Pfft, yeah, sure. Too bad it's the only thing you're good at._

The Dark Ace decided not to humour this with a reply.

'If you do not recall,' he said, 'it is thanks to me that you have remained alive in the first place. Only by repressing every last trace of you have I kept you from being discovered by my Master and therefore kept you from being purged from your own brain. Do you understand?'

_Oh yeah, I understand alright. I just hate the hell out of it._

The tall man wore an intimidating scowl for the remainder of his journey to the vast expanse of Cyclonia's hangar bay, where he quickly found his ride and jumped on.

_You'd better hope Master Polka Dot doesn't learn about your other massive failure, right?_

'I don't know what you're talking about,' he thought as he activated the wings and soared out into the blood-coloured clouds.

_Yes you do. You know exactly what I'm talking about, Dark. All those years ago? When you first took me over for good? A certain Sky Knight that you failed to assassinate?_

The Dark Ace's frown deepened.

_He's alive. I know you've seen he's alive, you drove his goddamn car. In fact, if I remember correctly, you're the one who helped him shepherd his son to the hospital!_

There wasn't a lot the Dark Ace could say to that.

_So what're you going to do? You can't just kill him now; he's a State Alchemist, a big shot, and if somebody bumps him off it'll make headlines in Amestris. You did your research on the Scarred Man, right? And if your precious little Master Polka Dot-_

'Could you PLEASE stop calling her that?'

_-finds out you failed in what was literally your very first mission, I don't even want to know what she's going to do to you._

He revved his engine, giving himself an extra burst of speed as he cut through the clouds.

'I think,' said the Dark Ace to the other consciousness inside his mind, 'that it's time Corporal Messerschmitt did a little digging on the Dust Storm Alchemist.'


End file.
